50 Shades of Fey
by HachimansKitsune
Summary: Sarah has to put her faith in a complete stranger to keep her brother with her. To do so, she has to give him power over both herself, and her little brother. When she finds out who, will she regret her decision? (NOT based on the 50 Shades novel - but there are kink and sexual themes)
1. Chapter 1

**Fifty Shades of Fey**

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_**Authors Note:**_ Yes, it was bound to happen. I'm surprised someone didn't do it before me, but given my reputation for writing Laby fanfic with a 'kink' component, it was only a matter of time before someone dared me to do this. So…here it is – _'Fifty Shades of Fey'_ Please note, I have NOT read 'Fifty Shades of Grey' – nor do I intend to. I object to the fact that that it basically plagiarized the author's fanfic and is therefore NOT an original publication, but the author (and publisher for that matter) are trying to pass it off as such. I have read many objections to the way the kink aspects are handled in that story, with many people in the kink community maintaining that it fails to present the issue of consent clearly.

The story you have here is merely a play on the title and bears no relation to that 'novel'.

**Warnings:** Yes, this is an 18+ story (hello…this is me writing it. Anyone who knows me knows I write mostly 18+ stuff). There are no warnings for THIS chapter, but there will be potential trigger warnings in later chapters.

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**Fifty Shades of Fey**

_**Ch 1: The Offer**_

Sarah always liked fall. There was just something magical about the crisp, almost 'tangy' sharpness of the air, and the way everything smelled earthy and spicy at the same time. The way leaves crunched under foot as she walked down the sidewalk, shattering brittle between her favourite leather boots and the cement. She loved the smell of fires as people lit their fireplaces for the first time since the snows melted. And she especially loved fall thunderstorms, the way they slowly seemed to creep in, before declaring their dark intent with angry grumbles that shook the ground.

Yes, fall was her favourite time of year.

_Was._ Past tense.

Times change and so do feelings. This year fall was a bleak, grey, shroud that seemed to suck the very breath from her lungs, and any hope and joy along with it.

A deep rumble echoed overhead as Sarah looked out the window at the steely clouds hanging low in the sky. The trees in the backyard swayed and groaned as the wind picked up, whipping leaves around and blowing the last few stragglers from the limbs. As the sky rumbled again, she sighed, leaning against the window of her room as she looked out. Thunderstorms used to worry her, now they made her think.

About the Labyrinth…and 'Him'.

A flash of white caught her eye in the trees that lined the far end of the yard. She held her breath as she looked at it, a loud rumble shaking the foundations. Seeing only a bit of white paper caught in the leaves, fluttering, she let go of the breath in a rush that fogged the icy pane of the window. Even now, four years later, thunderstorms reminded her of what she nearly lost and the person she had to fight to prevent it.

_Goblin King_…whispered her mind. _Jar…e…._

"No," she muttered, shutting her eyes tight. "Don't say it…don't even _think_ it."

She knew it was probably only a silly childish superstition, but she felt in her bones that to even think his name, was to invoke him – and that was an invitation she wasn't about to initiate.

Sarah wanted to believe her trip to the Labyrinth and her dealings with the Goblin King were some teen-age fantasy, but there were too many odd occurrences that made it impossible not to accept the truth. White owl feathers finding their way into Toby's crib, her backpack, her jackets and even her bed. The way bubbles seemed to find her, even when there was no one blowing them nearby. And they always seemed to float in space, lasting an impossibly long time before she could stand it no longer and would reach out, popping them with a sparkly pink painted nail. And each time she could swear she heard music – and screaming.

No. The Labyrinth was real…and so was 'He'. She was convinced of it.

With a sad sigh Sarah turned from the window, looking at her childhood bedroom now devoid of posters and belongings, the only evidence that someone had lived here being the boxes neatly stacked around the room – taped up and labeled for the moving company. Sarah felt her eyes sting with tears demanding to be set free as she turned her attention back to the window and the storm rolling overhead, readying itself to unleash a torrent of rain. She didn't want to leave the house, but she had no choice. This was her last night in the house she grew up in.

"I'm not ready for this," she whispered to the room and the yard as she watched the clouds. "I don't know how to be an adult…not really."

For years she had fought the 'smothering' of her father and stepmother, knowing that they did it with love, but wanting her independence and to be treated as an adult. At 17 she had one year left of high school and wanted desperately to have the freedom of an adult. Now, here she was faced with just that and she no longer wanted it, not that she had a choice in the matter. It was either strike out on her own or foster care and she knew what happened to older kids in foster care – it wasn't pretty.

Frowning, Sarah traced random lines on the window-pane, fogged by the heat of her breath against the cold glass. If she had been paying attention she would have recognized the lines formed a simple maze, a labyrinth drawn in mist, which disappeared almost as fast as her fingertip drew it. Lost in thought she didn't notice a fluttering white form alight on a tree at the back of the garden, momentarily visible before settling back into them brackish darkness of the pine boughs, the only evidence of its existence being the yellow glint off its eyes as it slowly blinked.

It had been an emotional and stressful six weeks, culminating in the forest of moving boxes that now surrounded her and filled every room. Six weeks to sort through a house that held several generation's worth of memories, preparing to leave it forever. Six weeks of being 'the adult' when all she wanted was someone to cuddle her, stroke her head and tell her everything would be okay.

Two days before she was due to start her last year in high school, Sarah's life and Toby's changed in a way she never expected. She remembered feeling uneasy as her father and step-mother prepared to go out for the night, even Toby was unusually upset, the five year old throwing a huge tantrum and begging them to stay. Sarah had suggested that maybe they should stay home, but her suggestion was shrugged off with a laugh and an admonition to 'grow up and stop being silly'.

They should have listened.

It took hours to calm Toby down enough to get him to bed, the poor kid finally crying himself into an exhausted sleep clutching Lancelot with a tear-stained face. At midnight Sarah finally made her way down to the lounge, her unease growing. She was dozing fitfully on the couch when flashing red and blue lights started to bounce around the room. With a start she looked out the window and felt her blood run cold as two police cruisers pulled into the driveway. They were very officious and apologetic when she opened the door. She remembered the whole scene with an almost clinical coldness – name verification….break it to the family gently….express sympathy….see if they can call someone.

A wry smile twisted her lips as Sarah shut her eyes against the tears that were trying so hard to make themselves known. Leaning against the window, the memory took hold of her again. Call someone? There was no one to call. Her parents were both only children. Her birth mother was off who-knows-where with her latest conquest. There were no aunts or uncles to take in the now orphaned teen and her little brother. Nor were there any doting grandparents. There was no one. Not even a close family friend she could turn to.

No. It was all up to her. To Sarah.

But, she was up to the challenge. The Labyrinth and the Goblin King had seen to that. Since the night she wished Toby away, she had learned to stay strong when things seemed insurmountable. It was only that strength of will, and the comfort she drew from this room and house that kept her going. She identified bodies. Made funeral arrangements. Decided on coffins and cremation and memorial services. Arranged internment plots. Greeted guests and colleagues. And a million other things – all while forcing down her own grief. She had to. She had to keep it together for Toby's sake.

At the thought of Toby her heart clenched and a tear finally fought its way free to slide down her cheek, burning hot in its path then turning icy cold in the chilled air flowing off the icy window-pane.

She'd held it together and gone through all of the 'adult' steps and for what? To lose Toby anyway…and the house as well.

"It's not fair," she muttered, her voice cracking as the rumbling outside increased.

When all the guests had left and the colleagues and given their last 'condolences' that had no real feeling behind them, all that was left was a lawyer in a grey flannel suit and the official. And that is where things went from bad to worse. Instead of inheriting the house, Sarah discovered that it had been sold the year before – her family was only renting it and she couldn't afford the rent on the small amount she made working at the local coffee shop.

Then there was the issue of Toby.

Shaking her head, Sarah sniffed as several more tears, of anger and despair now, followed the first down her cheeks, her hands clenching in fists against her thighs.

"It's not fair," she muttered again, her eyes staring dully into the growing gloom of the wintery dusk.

You'd think that being a lawyer, her father would have known better than to have written a will, but left it un-notarized. The fucking thing wasn't legal. So even though it clearly gave her power of attorney and guardianship over Toby, the state was going to take him and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

She tried to argue it, but since she wasn't even of legal age and definitely didn't have the money to fight the state through the courts, there was nothing she could do. So this was it. In the morning the department of children's services would be by to pick up Toby. "At least he'll be taken care of," she tried to tell herself, knowing it was hollow comfort. They had offered her a spot in foster care too, but at a half-way house for 'troubled teens'. Thankfully her Tudie, her boss at the coffee shop had given her an alternative, letting her stay in the tiny studio apartment above the shop for free. "You can have it as long as you need it, honey," the older woman has said, patting Sarah's arm gently in the first sincerely comforting gesture anyone had shown toward Sarah since this whole nightmare began. The offer was great – for Sarah. But a teeny studio was no place for a child.

Thinking of Toby made the tears come harder now, dripping off the tip of her nose onto the pale pink velvet of the window seat cushion below her, turning the material deep pink as they soaked into the faded fabric. Toby was being taken away and he didn't know what was going to happen. She'd spent the last week trying to find a way to break the news to him, but how do you tell a five year-old that not only have they lost their parents, they are being taken away from the only other living relative they have left. In the end she decided the best she could do was leave him with happy memories, so she filled their last week with games and stories, trips to the park, playing pretend, afternoons at the museum and junk-food filled movie-nights.

"Through dangers untold…and hardships unnumbered…I have fought my way here…to the castle beyond the Goblin City…." She whispered against the glass, before sagging onto the window seat and burying her face in her hands. "I fought so hard for you Tobes…and I'm going to lose you anyway," she sobbed. Her shoulders shook as she let out the grief, anger and fear that she had been storing up for weeks. As she cried, the rumbling grew louder as wind ripped at the trees, seeming to feed on her grief.

"I don't ….want to lose him," she sniffed brokenly. "I fought too hard to keep him and failed anyway."

Rain pelted the window and the wind howled through the trees as the storm finally unleashed its power. Sarah cried until there were no tears left, eventually drawing her knees to her chest as she sat on the window seat. Leaning her head on her knees, she looks out the window into the now dark yard, watching the rain, her eyes burning and sore.

With an exhausted whimper she whispered so softly even the dust bunnies couldn't hear, "I wish someone would come…save us from this nightmare."

And with the rain softening to a light, soothing drizzle against the window, Sarah finally cried herself to sleep.

* * *

_Tap…tap…tap…._

Sarah shifted in her uncomfortable position and muttered, "Go away Toby…I'm sleeping."

_Tap…tap…tap…_

Shifting again, Sarah nearly fell off the window seat before she opened her eyes. "Huh…what?" she mumbled stretching, before she realized the tapping was actually banging and it was coming from the front door.

"Crap!" she gasped, lurching to her feet and dodging the boxes to get out of her room and down the stairs. As she raced through the lower hall she glanced at the clock. 7:30. _What time do you call this then?! They aren't due until 11…and they can't have Tobes until then…_ she thought with a defiant frown stealing over her face.

Pulling open the door she prepared to give them a piece of her mind, but stopped short. There was a man standing on the front porch in an expensive looking black suit and dress coat of grey wool. He was older, with grey hair, glasses and carrying a black leather briefcase. She didn't recognize him, but he was most assuredly _not_ the social worker.

"Ms. Sarah Williams?" he asked, his words crisply accented, suggesting he was definitely not local. _Maybe _British… she thought as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

"Um…yes?" she replied, sounding unsure as she held onto the door handle.

He held out his hand, "My name is Alyn Foster, I am on retainer by Mr. Gareth Rex, a client of your father's."

Sarah shook his hand warily. "Look…if my father owes your client money, he's going to have to through the probate court. They have the house and anything else of value," she sighed.

The man gave a slightly amused smile and shook his head, releasing her hand. "You misunderstand, my dear. I am not here trying to collect monies from your father's estate. On the contrary, I am here with an offer that my employer would like you to consider," he relied. "May I come in?"

With a dazed nod, Sarah stepped back, letting him in. She shut the door after him, and ran a hand through her hair. "Um…please excuse the mess. The movers are coming today to take everything away." He nodded and looked around, his expression unreadable. "But…um… we can talk in the dining room," she suggested, leading him down the hall. Following her into the dining room, now empty except for the table and chairs, Mr. Foster settled himself on one of the chairs, laying his briefcase on the table.

"Thank you, this will do nicely," he said, snapping his briefcase open and pulling out a large envelope and laying it in front of her as she sat down opposite him. "This is the offer from Mr. Rex."

Reaching out, Sarah picked up the large white envelope turning it over in her hands. The back of the envelope had no markings, save for a red wax seal with an imprinted crest in it. She looked questioningly at Mr. Foster.

"Mr. Rex sealed the envelope. I do not know the terms of the offer," he says. "My instructions were to deliver it and await your decision."

Sarah carefully slid a finger under the wax seal, opening the envelope and pulling out a sheaf of papers held together with a clip. Frowning she flipped through them. "Um…how long do I have to make a decision? I mean, I'm going to have to read it carefully. It looks like a contract of some sort."

Mr. Foster simply nodded, "It is a contract and my instructions are merely to await your reply. No deadline was given."

Biting her lip, Sarah began to read through the letter that was attached to the front of the papers, her eyes going wide as she read…

_Dear Ms. Williams:_

_As a client and friend of your father's I am saddened by his loss and the tragedy that has befallen your family. I have greatly admired your father's honesty and integrity, which is why my family has long used him for our legal matters in your country._

_While the will left with your father's lawyer in the US was incomplete, I am pleased to inform you that he did indeed have a legal will in the UK, a copy of which is before you now. Over the past few years, your father sought my advice is relieving some of his financial difficulties so that he could provide for you and your brother. During the course of our dealings together, I helped him develop a trust fund for you and your brother. As part of the terms of the trust, in the event of your parents' death, I was granted guardianship of you and your brother, and power of attorney over the trust until you turn 21, at which point you become the primary guardian for Tobias and sole trustee of the funds._

_Due to the international nature of this arrangement and your age, it requires your consent. Should you not consent to my taking guardianship of both yourself and your brother, then all trust monies are to be held in escrow, with each of you inheriting half upon your 25__th__ birthday._

_I realize that the situation is far from ideal and the terms of your father's will require you to place your trust in someone who is, by all accounts, a complete stranger, but I do have your and your brother's best interests in mind – as was your father's wish._

_Please review the will and consent paperwork before you. Mr. Foster is a certified attorney and able to notarize all documents, as well as answer any questions for you pertaining to the legality of the contract, will and other documents._

_I hope to see you soon._

_G. Rex_

Blinking, Sarah looked at Mr. Foster. "This is real?" she asked.

"Indeed it is," he replied.

Catching her lip with her teeth, Sarah flipped to the will beneath it. "I…I'm going to need some time to read this," she said.

Foster rose with a curt nod, saying, "I shall leave you alone to review the documents. When you are done or need me to address any questions, I will be in the lounge."

Sarah watched him leave the room then looked back at the will and began to read. The will itself was more generous than she had expected, leaving she and Toby enough money that they would be quite comfortable and if invested wisely, could set them up for the rest of their lives.

Then she turned to the consent contract. Sarah nibbled on the end of the pen as she read through it, frowning more and more. If she signed the document, she would be granting Mr. Rex power of attorney and guardianship over Toby as well as herself. The terms of the contract, while stated simply, were anything but. In essence, he would have power over both of their lives. Biting her lip, Sarah mulled it over. Could she really give control over her life for the next four years to a stranger in order to keep she and Toby together?

As she was considering the offer, the house phone rang, the sound shattering the quiet of the morning. Hopping up, Sarah trotted into the kitchen to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Yes, Ms. Williams? This is Nancy Green, from social services," said the voice on the other end of the line.

"Oh..um…hi," Sarah mumbled, feeling her heart start to tighten in her chest.

"I'm sorry to have to do this, Ms. Williams, but the foster family we have set up for your brother would like to pick him up early, so I will be by in an hour to pick him up," the woman said matter-of-factly.

"But…you can't do that," protested Sarah, her hand tightening on the phone in a panic. "We have until 11. You promised."

"Please, don't make this any harder than it has to be," said the social worker, her tone emotionless.

"But…" Sarah tried again, unable to think of anything that might sway the woman on the phone.

"I'll be there at 9 with a sheriff's deputy," the social worker replied, her voice hard now. "Don't make him be necessary."

When she hung up, Sarah stood for a moment looking at the phone as it beeped at her. An hour. That was all she had left with Toby and she hadn't even told him yet. Her mind was a whirlwind of panic and despair.

"Is everything all right, Ms. Williams?" asked Mr. Foster from the doorway, his grey eyes narrowed in concern.

"They're going to take him," she muttered, still staring at the bleeping phone. "In an hour. They'll take him and I'll never see him again." Pacing the kitchen she wrung her hands, finally looking at him, her eyes wild and pleading, "If…if I sign the contract, will that stop them?" she asked.

"I don't know," he says. "I haven't read it."

Sarah rushed to the dining table, grabbing the will and the contract and ran back to Mr. Foster. He took the documents and read them rapidly, then nodded. "Yes. If the documents are signed and notarized before they arrive, then it is official and takes priority over any other claims and legal contracts."

Glancing at the clock, Sarah felt her heart squeeze as Toby came blearily into the room, clutching Lancelot by one paw. "'Mornin' Sarah. Who's dat?" the five-year-old asked with a yawn, rubbing his eyes as he looked at Mr. Foster.

That one question from the person she loved most in the world sealed the deal – and her fate.

"Let's do this," she said, grabbing the papers from Mr. Foster and quickly scribbling her name in the marked spaces.

As the clock struck 9, Mr. Foster stamped the documents, finalizing them.

The deal was done.

They now were under the guardianship of Mr. Gareth Rex, for better or worse, and Sarah really hoped it was for better.

Pulling Toby into a tight hug, Sarah kissed the top of his head, whispering, "I lost you once and got you back. No one is ever going to take you from me again."

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**Author's Note 2:** Thank you to everyone for being patient with my other stories. I will be working on them, but this story idea has been rolling around in my brain for two years and it is time to exorcise it. :)


	2. Ch2: Home Is Where the Heart Is

_**Authors Note:**_ I am overwhelmed by the lovely reviews of the first chapter and the number of people who posted and messaged me to tell me they were glad to see I was writing again. Thank you, everyone. That was a wonderful surprise and it is people who appreciate my stories that keeps me writing. For those that asked – yes, I have a new job, and a new place to live, in a new state. Things are going well, but the new job is mentally taxing, so between that and my illnesses, I regularly have 'no spoons' left to spend on writing. I am trying to conserve some more spoons/energy for writing, so the chapters in this story will likely be on the shorter side.

And yes, for those that asked…there will be LEMONS. LOTS of lemons. Never fear!

**Warnings:** Yes, this is an 18+ story (hello…this is me writing it. Anyone who knows me knows I write mostly 18+ stuff). However, there are no warnings for THIS chapter….gotta finesse those things, can't just jump into them willy-nilly.

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**Fifty Shades of Fey**

_**Ch 2: Home is Where the Heart Is**_

The moment Sarah signed the guardianship contract, everything started happening incredibly fast. It was almost magical how easy things suddenly got for the two of them. When the social worker showed up, Mr. Foster met the woman at the door, and in a clipped tone that was cold and officious, informed her in no uncertain terms that Toby would _not_ be going with her – that day or any other. Sarah watched the scene on the front porch from her spot on the couch looking out the parlor window, with Toby tucked in her lap. She almost wished she had a picture of the indignant outrage on the woman's face as it soon became a mask of fear when Mr. Foster told her to leave or she would be charged with attempted kidnapping as the 'children' were now under the care of Mr. Gareth Rex. The woman's face went white at that news, much to Sarah's amusement. While she may not know who Mr. Rex was, apparently he was someone of some power, because Ms. Green rushed off after that.

But the whirlwind of action in their lives didn't stop there. Before he had even shut the door on the rapidly retreating back of Ms. Green, Mr. Foster was on his phone.

"Ms. Williams has signed the forms, Sir," she heard him saying, as he quickly walked through the house surveying and mentally tallying the boxes and furnishings. "The movers are coming this afternoon. I will make arrangements for their belongings to be rerouted to Tylluan House."

She strained to hear who she assumed was Mr. Rex on the other end of the phone, but could hear nothing except for Mr. Foster's replies.

"Yes. The plane is waiting at the airfield. We should be back at the house by tea time tomorrow….Yes, Sir. I will tell them….. I will contact you when we have landed. Yes, Sir. I will….. "

When he hung up, Sarah was dying to ask him what Mr. Rex had said, but she wasn't given the chance, as he began making arrangements for taking them to their new home, and their new guardian, Mr. Gareth Rex.

Within hours Sarah and Toby were on their way to the airport, tucked in the back of a sleek black sedan. Sarah could barely believe it when Mr. Foster walked them out of their home to his car. She thought he was alone, but he wasn't. Leaning against the side of the car was a large man with a bald head, wearing a neat black suit and mirrored sunglasses. He wasn't overweight, but seemed to be built from pure, rock-hard muscle, the suit doing nothing to mask the solid muscles underneath the fabric. "Louis, this is Ms. Sarah and her brother, Master Tobias. They are wards of Mr. Rex," Foster said, as Louis moved to open the back door of the car, nodding at Sarah and giving her a brief smile. "Sarah, Louis is my driver and bodyguard. Upon arrival in the UK, he will take on those duties for you and your brother."

"He-he will?" she managed to squeak, blinking in surprise as she looked from Mr. Foster to the burly form of Louis as he held the car door open for her.

"Yes. He will," Foster said in a quiet tone that spoke of patience wearing thin. "While your own funds are considerable, they are held in trust and thus, are safe. However, Mr. Rex is a man of some…power …and wealth. Therefore he feels it is prudent to protect his assets - both property _and_ people."

Sarah wasn't sure how she felt about being considered an 'asset', much less the fact that whatever life they were being taken to involved a need for a driver who doubled as a bodyguard. It was all so strange. Frowning slightly as Mr. Foster cleared his throat and looked at his watch, she slid into the back seat of the car, buckling Toby in before wrapping her arm around him. As the car door shut the two of them in, she jumped, her arm tightening around Toby who, unlike Sarah, was having the time of his young life.

"Mr. Foster…um…Sir," he asked as Mr. Foster and Louis got into the car and the engine started up.

Foster looked over his shoulder at Toby, his eyes seeming to have gone a shade of silver, making Sarah shiver as she looked at him. Surprisingly, his tone was gentle as he addressed Toby, "Yes, Master Tobias?"

"Is Mr. Rex…well…is he gonna be like my dad?" he asked, picking fluff off Lancelot.

Sarah felt her breath threaten to strangle her, a lump forming in her throat at the innocent question from the child. Mr. Foster actually smiled, seeming to look fondly at the young boy.

"No one will ever replace your father, Tobias. But Mr. Rex has every intention of making sure you have a good and happy life, just like your father wanted," he said.

At that moment, Sarah could have kissed him for being so kind and reassuring. While he may have been talking to Toby, his words meant the world to her as well. Nodding, Toby snuggled against Sarah, content with what he had been told. Sarah however, was not.

"Um…Mr. Foster… I've never heard my father talk about Mr. Rex, could you…well…could you tell me a bit about him? Who is he? What does he do?"

Turning around as Louis drove, Mr. Foster nodded, "Mr. Rex is the current head of Rexic Enterprises."

"Whoa…" Sarah murmured, trying to wrap her head around this bit of information.

Mr. Foster's lips curled in a slight smirk as he looked at Sarah's shocked face in the rearview mirror. "I see you have heard of them?"

Sarah nodded, swallowing hard, "That's the biggest multi-media corporation in the world."

Nodding, Foster smiled as he continued. "Indeed. Entertainment media is their primary industry, although there are subsidiary businesses that include electronics and publishing. Does that answer your questions?"

"Well, it tells me who he is and what he does, but I still don't understand how he knew my father."

Mr. Foster shrugged. "I handle Mr. Rex's affairs in the UK and overseas, but he needed a lawyer who was well-versed in Internet law in the US, so he retained the services of your father. That is all I really know of their relationship. I'm sure Mr. Rex will give you additional detail should you need it."

Sarah sat back and considered this. Her father…mild, unassuming Richard Williams, was a specialty lawyer for the owner and CEO of the biggest media corporation in the world. Not only that, but they were on close enough terms that her father was willing to ask Rex to be the guardian of his children. Biting her lip, Sarah looked out the window as the car drove past the airport entrance and turned into the guard gate leading to the private airfields. Louis rolled down his window and presented an ID card to the guard, who read it over then pulled an envelope from a box, saying, "Here is your manifest and flight permissions. Please have your pilot buzz the tower when you are ready."

A few minutes later the car pulled up near a sleek private plane, the entry open and stairs placed at the doorway. Turning around, Mr. Foster gave Sarah and Toby a quiet smile. "Shall we get you to your new home?"

Silently Sarah nodded, while Toby practically vibrated with the excitement of his first airplane ride, his first trip overseas and the prospect of this strange new life. Sarah however, wasn't sure about this…about _any_ of this.

Getting out of the car she looked at the plane, then squeezed Toby's hand.

"Come on feet…let's go," she muttered, before moving forward to board the plane.

* * *

They say home is where the heart is, but Sarah wasn't quite convinced. Sure, Toby was with her still and he was, as far as she was concerned, her 'heart', however that fact alone didn't make Tylluan House home.

Tylluan 'House'.

It sounded like something from a stuffy old public television drama. For her part, Sarah thought it was a bit of a misnomer anyway. This place wasn't a house, it was a proper old-fashioned English manor house. A mansion by US standards. She vividly remembered the surreal feeling she had as Louis drove them up onto the property when they arrived. The driveway itself had to be two miles long if it was a foot, neatly splitting the immaculately manicured front lawn, which was dotted with flower beds, and edged by the forest that surrounded the property. Then there was the house. Built from finely weathered grey-brown stone, the house was massive, with four stories and more rooms than she and Toby would be able to count in a week. It far surpassed anything she expected.

It was like something out of a movie…or a dream.

Mr. Foster led them to the front door of the manor, up the great marble steps at the front, with Sarah and Toby gawking at the immense size of the place. Before he reached the large double doors, a shadow passed behind the beautiful stained glass panels set into the mahogany wood, then the doors swung open. An older woman stood there, tall and prim in her black dress that buttoned high on her neck and fell to below her knees. She wore a watch brooch on her chest, and had a ring of keys hanging at her waist. Sarah swallowed hard as Toby clung to her hand and tried to hide behind her at the sight of the woman. She looked like the wicked stepmother in every fairytale. At that moment Sarah seriously considered grabbing Toby and running as far away from this house as she could get. If the fierce aura coming off this woman was any indication, Mr. Rex must be the Devil incarnate.

Before she could make a move to run, the woman's demeanor seemed to thaw as she gave Sarah and Toby a warm smile.

"Welcome, children…welcome," she said, holding her hand out to Toby who first peeked out from around Sarah's thigh, then reached out and took it with a shy smile. Squeezing his hand she squatted down and patted his cheek. "Aren't you just a handsome little man. Just like your father said….God rest him," she said, then stood up and smiled at Sarah. "And you, you're just as pretty as a picture. Come in…come in."

Mr. Foster smiled at Sarah. "This is Mrs. Brown, she is the head housekeeper for Mr. Rex and will be in charge of you both when Mr. Rex is not in residence."

"Oh now, don't make me sound like some stodgy old jailer, Alyn," Mrs. Brown said with a broad grin. As Sarah looked more closely at her, she could see the laugh lines crinkling around the woman's eyes and lips, and the merry way her blue eyes twinkled, set off by the freckles that covered her face and her rosy cheeks. Relaxing, Sarah smiled at the woman, and was rewarded with a gentle pat on the arm. "You're home now, dear girl. We'll take good care of you…you'll see," she said, gently pulling Sarah and Toby into the front hall of the house.

The front foyer was huge, with a parquet floor that featured a diamond-shaped knot-work maze in the middle of the floor. To the right of the inlaid marble design were French doors leading into what appeared to be a library, as the walls were covered with bookshelves filled with row after row of books. Opposite the library door was a large archway leading into a living room with plush Persian rugs, heavy furniture and a fireplace outlined with an ornately carved mantel. Seeing Sarah's gaze shift to the surroundings, Mrs. Brown chuckled, "I'll give you the grand tour later, dear. Into the kitchen with the lot of you. It's a long flight and I'm sure you're hungry."

Mr. Foster shook his head, "I'm afraid I can't stay. My duties with the children end here, as I must report to Mr. Rex immediately."

Nodding curtly to Sarah, Foster turned and made his way down the stairs, as Louis entered the house and shut the front door.

Covering his mouth with his hand, Louis gave a tired yawn, before turning and lumbering down the corridor toward the back of the house. Mrs. Brown just smiled and patted Sarah's arm again, "Don't mind Louis, dear. He's a man of very few words," she said and began to steer the two of them toward the back of the house, past the huge mahogany staircase leading to the second floor. "So, my dears….we'll get you some breakfast and start to get to know each other, how's that sound?"

At the mention of food, Toby was sold on the idea and Sarah had to admit, Mrs. Brown did make the whole situation seem less surreal and frightening. Maybe she wouldn't regret her decision after all. Turning a corner, Mrs. Brown led them into a large kitchen, bathed in natural light. It was a cheerful, bright place, with a huge stovetop and four ovens, as well as a large dishwasher and two massive stone sinks set under a window that overlooked the back lawn. There was a heavy kitchen table in the middle of the room, with a butcher block top. The table was set for two and Mrs. Brown wasted no time in seating them, tying Toby's napkin around his neck. Turning toward the stove, the housekeeper opened one of the ovens and Sarah's mouth watered as the room was filled with the luscious scent of blueberry pancakes, bacon and eggs.

"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I decided to go with the classics," the older woman said, filling Sarah and Toby's plates, then getting them juice. Once she had them settled, Mrs. Brown sat down next to Toby with a cup of coffee and a happy grin. Reaching over she started to cup up Toby's pancakes, while smiling at Sarah. "So…let's get acquainted shall we?"

Their first meal in Tylluan House was a far more comfortable event than Sarah expected when the door first opened. As they chatted, Sarah learned that Mrs. Brown had been the head housekeeper for twenty-two years, and first maid for fifteen years before that. She began to work for Mr. Rex's father when she was only fifteen. Sarah also learned that Mrs. Brown and Louis weren't the only staff at the house. There were two 'family' maids, one for Mr. Rex and one for she and Toby since they were now 'family'. In addition to the family maids, there were two housemaids, a cook, a kitchen girl, stable hand, gardener, Mr. Rex's valet (who was also his personal driver/bodyguard) and the most recent addition to the household, a nanny for Toby.

The more staff Mrs. Brown listen off, the more unsettled Sarah began to feel.

"I….we…we don't belong here," Sarah said finally, putting down her cup and pushing away her half-eaten breakfast as the enormity of the situation hit her, making her appetite flee.

Gently Mrs. Brown patted her hand, the gesture at once reassuring and motherly. "Dear girl…you _do_ belong here. Your father was a lovely man. I met him many times when he visited Mr. Rex," she said, her blue eyes shining, before she wiped them with the back of her hand. "Bless his heart, he loved you children. Even if your father hadn't put Mr. Rex as guardian in his will, Mr. Rex would have made the offer anyway."

Sarah's chin wobbled, tears welling up again. She'd go hours without thinking of all that they'd lost, then something would trigger it again. Seeing the pain well up in the girl's eyes, Mrs. Brown slid her chair close to Sarah, pulling her into a warm embrace as the tears started in earnest. Sarah couldn't stop them. She cried out her grief at losing her parents. She cried out the terror of nearly losing Toby. She cried out her fear of the unknown future in the US, which was suddenly replaced with a still unknown future in a strange country and in a strange house. The whole time she cried, Mrs. Brown held her, rocking her gently and patting her back. "Oh my darling child. You've been through so much…with no mum to cuddle you and tell you it will be okay. But it will, my dear. You'll see. You're home now. You just let it all out…"

After what seemed like an eternity, Sarah sniffled, the tears finally exhausted for the moment. Shifting she pulled back, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. Toby eased up to her, snuggling under her arm and hugging her around the middle. "It'll be okay Sarah," he said, burying his face against her side as she hugged him.

Rising, Mrs. Brown smiled at the brother and sister, "Come along now. What you need is a good nap in a comfy bed, and you'll feel better about everything," she said, chuckling as Toby nodded and yawned at the same time.

Taking Toby's hand, Sarah followed Mrs. Brown toward the staircase that led to the second floor. "This is holiday week for most of the staff except for myself and Louis," she said as they walked down the immaculate hall with its thick carpet and walls lined with artwork. "The nanny, Ms. Glen, will be here tomorrow morning, but you and I can manage Toby until then, can't we?"

Sarah nodded, exhaustion rapidly catching up with her. She stifled a yawn as Mrs. Brown opened a door and announced, "This is your room Toby, dear." Toby let out a war-whoop and raced into the large room. It was a little boy's dream come true. The bed in the corner was ornately carved to look like a pirate ship, complete with a short rope ladder to climb up into it. There were bookcases and shelves filled with books, toys and games, as well as a full train-table and a rug patterned with roads, lakes, rivers and train tracks to play on. In one corner of the room was a large wooden castle that opened up revealing rooms, including knights, soldiers and all kinds of figures for play.

Racing from thing to thing, Toby was beside himself. "Sarah…look at this! Ohh…look at this! Look at this stuff!" he gasped, then suddenly stopped, his little face falling. "Are you sure this stuff is for me? Mr. Rex doesn't know me. Why would he get me all this great stuff?" he asked Mrs. Brown.

Smiling the woman went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of pajamas just the right size for Toby. "Yes, indeed, dear boy. It's all for you. Mr. Rex himself, picked out the toys and things in this room especially for you, because he thought you'd like them."

Toby grinned again, as he looked around. "Wow…just…wow."

Mrs. Brown just chuckled watching him. When the phone started to ring she handed Sarah the pajamas. "Here dear, you get him changed while I answer that," she said and bustled away.

Feeling a bit numb, Sarah sat on a chair in the corner, pulling Toby toward her as she began to change his clothes. The little boy yawned, but grinned happily at her. "I think it's gonna be okay…don't you, Sarah?"

"Well…Mr. Rex is definitely being generous," she acknowledged, knowing from Toby's petulant huff that this wasn't the answer he wanted to hear from her. "Look, Toby, this is just a lot to take in all at once. I'm glad you're happy…but mostly I'm just glad that we're still together. We're still a family."

Once he was changed, Toby threw his arms around her and gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "We'll always be family, Sarah."

She hugged him back and kissed the top of his head. "That's right, twerp. You can't get rid of me." Standing up, she swung him into her arms, dangling him upside down as she carried the screaming and giggling boy to the bed. With a grunt, she managed to shove him up into the pirate ship, then climbed a little way up the rope ladder to tuck him in, with Lancelot in his arms.

"Sarah…do you think we can make Lancelot a pirate outfit?" the boy asked sleepily.

Smoothing hair from his forehead, Sarah smiled. "Sure…we'll ask Mrs. Brown about it this afternoon. For now, sleep. Okay?"

He nodded and mumbled sleepily, rolling over and snuggling the well-loved bear. "Love you, Sar…"

With a sigh she whispered, "Love you too, Tobes. Sweet dreams."

Sarah slipped out of the room, pulling the door shut quietly behind her, to find Mrs. Brown in the hall. "Did you get him to bed okay, dear?"

"Yeah…he was more tired than he acted," she say, covering her own yawn.

Seeing that, Mrs. Brown clucked. "Come on, dear girl. Let's get you off to sleep too. I'm sure you need a good long sleep after all you've been through," the woman said, turning and opening the door across from Toby's room. "These rooms are yours," she said, moving aside so Sarah could enter.

"Oh….my…." was all Sarah could say as she entered the room. It was as large as Toby's room, but wasn't a bedroom, but a proper sitting room. The carpet was pale rose color with a silken sheen. There was a lovely sofa covered in a rose print brocade of cream and pink, with a pink velvet chair next to it. Under the window was a large work desk with a computer of her very own sitting on it. There was even a piano against the other wall.

"Your father said you loved playing music when you were thinking, so Mr. Rex had that shipped over from Ireland for you," Mrs. Brown said, as Sarah lightly ran her fingertips over the top of the white piano.

Turning to look at her, Sarah frowned, "But…he didn't know until last night that we were coming."

Mrs. Brown just smiled, "Oh…he had faith that you'd be joining our family, dear. If you hadn't agreed on your own, he probably would have flown over to discuss it in person." Opening a door to the right, Mrs. Brown bustled into another room. "This is your bedroom, dear."

Nibbling her lip, Sarah followed the woman into a bedroom that was truly like something out of her fantasies.

The floor was a deep mossy green, with a plush throw rug depicting a mass of flowers at the foot of the bed. A large honey colored bed sat against the wall opposite the door, the four posters carved to look like climbing vines. Over the whole bed hung a semi-sheer canopy of white with flowers embroidered all over it in shades of pink, blue, purple, yellow and green. "It's like a fairy bower," she gasped, lightly caressing the shimmering cascade of embroidered flowers.

Nodding Mrs. Brown smiled, "Your father mentioned that you loved 'A Midsummer's Night Dream'. Mr. Rex thought you might like this."

Sarah looked at her, her eyes brimming again. "I don't understand…how…how can he be so nice? He doesn't _know_ us."

The housekeeper shrugged as she opened another door, showing Sarah the spacious ensuite, then the deep walk in closet already filled with clothes. "I know what people say about Mr. Rex, Sarah dear. That he's a nasty, vicious man who is cruel and manipulative. And when it comes to his work, I've no doubt that he is just that. But in his private life…with family…and those he cares for and who care for him in return, he is a very generous man. And now, you and Toby are part of that circle of family and friends. So, he wants to be generous, to help you see that you are safe now. You are home."

Leaning against one of the uprights of the bed, Sarah wrapped her arm around it and looked at Mrs. Brown. "Tell me about him? Please?"

Mrs. Brown pulled a nightgown out of a drawer in the closet and handed it to Sarah. "You get changed and I'll tell you a bit…but then I want you to have a sleep. You look ready to fall off your feet, my dear."

Taking the nightgown, Sarah retreated into the dressing room/closet as Mrs. Brown pottered about. "Well, with family and friends he is generous. He loves music and gives the best parties for the holidays," she said, then laughed. "And he loves to dance and sing. Oh dear…let's see…what else. Well, Mr. Rex likes being outdoors when he is home. Says he gets sick of iron and concrete jungles in the city. So, at least for a month or two each year he uproots the whole household to go to the property by the sea in Ireland," she adds, smiling as Sarah comes out of the dressing room in the floor length linen nightgown, trimmed with small bits of eyelet lace. "Ahh…good…we got your size right," she nods in approval, then pulls the covers back on the bed. "I'll leave you to it. You just come on down when you wake up," she said, pulling the door shut as she left the sitting room.

Left to her own devices, Sarah looked around the beautiful sitting room, still feeling vaguely afraid to touch anything for fear the 'real' owner would swoop in at any second. While she was tired, her mind was racing too face to contemplate sleep, so she wandered toward the bookcases, dragging her fingertips over the books. All of her favourites were there, fantasy stories, Celtic mythology, science fiction, the works. Obviously her father must have spent quite a bit of time talking about her likes and dislikes. At that thought, her eyes prickled with tears again, until she shut them tight, randomly pulling a book off the shelves. Opening her eyes again, she smiled realizing she was holding a copy of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. She flipped it open and walked back into the bedroom, already losing herself in the familiar words of the Bard.

Sarah walked to the large windows to shut the curtains so she could read in peace and nap. Reaching to pull the curtains closed, she glanced up from the pages of the book to look out the window onto the back lawn of the house, only to gasp, dropping the heavy volume on the carpet as she stared transfixed into the back lawn – a back lawn that was as neat and immaculately tended as the front lawn, with one striking difference.

A labyrinth.

A massive structure of precisely carved bushes of green, their sides dotted with pink and yellow roses. And from her vantage point on the second floor, Sarah had a nearly perfect view of the fountain at the center of the hedge labyrinth, a fountain topped with something that shimmered in the late morning sunlight.

A perfectly formed crystal.

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**A/N:**

Thanks again for all of the lovely reviews and comments. This story has been eating at me for soooo long (two years now). I just couldn't ignore it any longer. That said, don't worry. I will be getting back to my other stories. Sometimes it takes a new story to help inspire me to write on my others.


	3. Ch3: Homecoming

**Fifty Shades of Fey**

**Ch. 3: Homecoming**

**Author's Note:** To clarify for a typo in Ch. 1 – Sarah is 17 and in her last year of high school. Yes, this 'technically' makes her underage. But relax…there is a method to my madness. All will come clear in time. For those of you that liked "Dreams, Wishes and Brown Wrapping Paper" this story will definitely appeal to you (tho probably not as blatantly UST driven as that one ;) ) Also, I've written over 10k words in the last 4 days, so don't expect another update for a few days.

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The sight of the hedge maze with the crystal topped fountain in the middle of it was enough to chase any thought of sleep from Sarah's mind. All she could do was stand and stare at it. It was perfect, the clarity seeming to ripple in the morning sunlight, shimmering with an ethereal quality.

Her mind churned frantically as she looked at it. It was just a coincidence. It had to be. 'He' wasn't here, in this world. This was just another reminder that he existed…somewhere. Yes. That's it. That's all it was. Surely. Just a coincidence. A simple reminder not to forget the lesson. A reminder to hang onto Toby tight and do anything she had to do to keep him.

Over and over the litany of rationalization began in a well-rehearsed inner monologue. And it was well-rehearsed, she had said it to herself at least once a month since she returned from the Labyrinth. Every now and then there would be some sort of 'reminder' of 'Him', his kingdom, his people or her adventure. It might be white owl feathers blowing through the air and getting stuck in her hair, or a picture Toby drew that resembled a goblin. The next time it might be the barking of a dog that sounded surprisingly like Ambrosious, or a stone garden statue at the garden center that looked like Hoggle. It was always something small, that no one else would notice. No one that is, except Sarah.

Nothing ever happened with them though. They clearly were not malicious, just…_there_. So, she took them to be a 'nudge' to help her remember to cherish what was really important – her brother. She thought at first it was also a reminder of her friends and tried time and time again to contact them, but the mirror never worked again after that first night. Sarah had lost count of the nights she sat in front of the vanity and cried, calling for her friends, to no avail. On her 16th birthday, when her school 'friends' had conveniently 'forgotten' her party leaving her in a party hall by herself, she sat alone and depressed in front of that mirror and very nearly called 'Him', but his name turned to dust in her mouth before she could say it, afraid of what he might do.

As sure as she was that saying his name would invite him back, Sarah was unsure of one thing – what sort of reception he might give her. After all, she not only destroyed his kingdom, but turned him down and she had read enough fairy tales and myths to know that you don't turn down proposals from kings. That is what he had done, after all. Sadly, she realized that fact two weeks too late, and it took reading through another Shakespeare play for that light to dawn. He had offered her everything. Every dream. Every wish. Every whim. Even himself.

And she turned him down flat.

Sarah wasn't sure how long she stood there, staring at it. It was around 10:30 when Mrs. Brown took them upstairs to their rooms, but Sarah didn't move from the window until the clock on top of the piano chimed noon. Shaking her head, she bent down and retrieved the book, her hands shaking slightly. It was all a coincidence. Nothing more. As she stood, she glanced briefly at the crumpled page from where the book had fallen:

_I'll follow thee and make a Heaven from Hell_

_To die upon the hand I love so well._

Frowning thoughtfully, Sarah smoothed the crushed page, her fingers gently running over the wrinkled words. It was one of her favourite lines, seeming to speak of unrequited love. With a sigh she shook her head, "No…I will _not_ go down this path. There has to be some logical explanation for this. End of story," she muttered, then dropped the book on the bed and stalked into the dressing room. Sarah pulled on her favourite pair of jeans and pulled a t-shirt from a drawer. Slipping shoes on, she gave her hair a quick brush, then headed out in search of Mrs. Brown.

Sarah figured that the kitchen would be a safe place to start her search, but it was empty. The breakfast dishes were washed and stacked in the rack by the sink. It looked like there wasn't an item out of place, everything neatly put away. From there she began to wander in and out of the rooms on the first floor. She explored the library and the formal parlor by the front door first, marveling at the furnishings. Then she found the main hall and discovered a well-equipped media room and a game room with a billiards table and a video game console. Behind another door on that hall, she discovered a music room that made her fingers itch to sit down and play. There was a full grand piano, as well as various stringed instruments and a saxophone. She marveled at the selection of instruments, then discovered that there were two huge bookcases in that room, one containing sheet music neatly put into binders and labeled, the other holding row after row of records. Shaking her head she wandered down the hall toward the other end of the house. As she walked, she started to pay more attention to the artwork on the walls. There were lots of historical pictures that she assumed were of the village that Tylluan House overlooked, but there were very few modern photos. The rest of the artworks were paintings of people, landscapes and even animals. But nowhere did she see any personal photos. There weren't even any photos of Mr. Rex with famous people, and she was pretty sure that those sorts of pictures had to exist…somewhere. In fact, there really wasn't anything anywhere to indicate the man actually lived there. None of the personal touches that made a house feel like 'home'.

At the end of the hall she found another door, heavier than the others. She went to knock then laughed at herself. There wasn't anyone in the house except for herself, Toby and Mrs. Brown. Shrugging she turned the door knob, expecting the door to be locked, but it swung slowly open revealing a large, richly furnished office.

His office. Mr. Gareth Rex.

It had to be.

Nibbling her lip she peeked inside, unable to convince her feet to carry her over the threshold of the room. Sure, no one else was here, but there was something about this office that just felt, forbidding. In the center of the huge room, facing the door, stood a massive desk that looked like it weight a ton if it weighed an ounce. The desktop was neat, with three leather paper holders, one atop the other. There was a black leather blotter in the middle and a banker's lamp. In front of the desk were two leather chairs, and the sides of the room were filled with floor to ceiling bookshelves. Other parts of the large room were filled with smooth leather sofas, chairs and ornate throw rugs, the sheen of which suggest they might be real silk. Set between two large bookcases on the wall to the right of the desk was a fireplace, the front of which was covered with an intricately cut ironwork grate depicting two unicorns facing each other, with a stylized sun balanced on their horns. Pursing her lips, she consider that. It wasn't the sort of thing she imagined finding, but was lovely all the same.

Behind the desk was a large bay window overlooking the back gardens. Peering out office window from her spot in the doorway, Sarah saw that it had the same view of the hedge maze that her room did. For some reason, that thought made her shiver a bit.

Squelching the unsettling feeling, she turned and pulled the door shut behind her, then made her way back to the main stairs. As she walked up the heavily carpeted stairs, she trailed her hand over the silky smooth wood of the bannister, wood so highly polished she could see her reflection in it. At the top of the stairs she paused. Her rooms and Toby's were to the right, along with a bunch of bedrooms that weren't used, so there was no use going down there again. At the top of the stairs was a set of French doors, shrugging she moved to them and pushed them open, then whistled in wonder.

It was a ballroom. An honest to God ballroom.

Almost reassuringly, it was nothing like the ballroom from her Labyrinth adventure. Instead of a confection of white and crystal, this ballroom was more 'traditional'. The floor was inlaid parquet, with an elaborate knotwork design ringing the room, and a family crest in the middle of the floor. The walls were covered in a brocade design. Slipping into the room Sarah lightly caressed the wall and smiled. It was not just brocade, but silk velvet, just like her step mother wanted for their dining room at home. This thought made her breath catch in her throat as a flood of memories slammed into her. She dropped onto the sofa near the door and shut her eyes tight, fighting to control her breathing until the feeling eased. Slowly she regained control and opened her eyes again.

Taking a deep breath she resumed looking around the room, padding silently across the lovely floor to inspect the crest. Just like the grate in Mr. Rex's study, the crest had two unicorns, balancing a flaming sun on their horns. Careful not to step on the image, she side-stepped around it and went to the balcony at the back of the room, peering out to see that it was lined up perfectly with the entrance to the hedge maze in the back garden. As she stood there, she couldn't help but notice how lovely the maze looked, with the flowers scattered on the hedges and the midday sunlight making the fountain in the center seem to glow from within.

Sighing, she shook her head and left the ballroom, then turned toward the hall to the left of the stairs. The first door she tried on this hall was locked, as was every other door that she tried going down that hall. While the doors were locked, there was something here that she hadn't found anywhere else in the house – portraits.

They started almost as soon as she entered the hall, large oil portraits of people that she could only assume were the Rex family ancestors. As she walked down the hall, she inspected the pictures. By and large, the Rex family was quite attractive, so Mr. Rex was swimming in a good gene pool, she thought with a giggle. Some of the men had merry, laughing blue eyes, while others looked strict and austere. The women were mostly blonde, with petite, waifish figures and delicate features. At the end of the hall she hoped to find a portrait of Mr. Rex, but the last painting had a date of death well before Mr. Rex had to have been born – 1930. As she looked at the last door of the hall and contemplated opening it she was startled when someone spoke.

"You shouldn't be here."

Whipping around she saw Louis standing in the hall, his burly body filling it.

"I…ah….I was looking for Mrs. Brown," she stammered.

Louis shook his head with a quiet frown. "This is the family's wing. No one is allowed in these rooms except the family and Mr. Rex," he said, his low voice rumbling in the quiet hall.

"Yeah…fine…I-I'll um…go to my room. Sorry," she said, creeping past him and hurrying from the hall and back to her rooms.

At 2 Mrs. Brown knocked on her door and bustled into the sitting room, finding Sarah curled up on the sofa staring out at the maze, the copy of Shakespeare open in her lap. "Oh good, you're up dear. Didn't want you to sleep too long or you won't sleep tonight," the older woman said with a warm smile. "I'll go get your brother up and we'll get you two some lunch and a tour of the house.

The woman swept out of the room and Sarah didn't have the heart to tell her she had already gone on a 'self-tour'. Sarah followed along as the woman got Toby up and dressed, then ushered the two children down to the kitchen and set about feeding them. As they at, Sarah finally worked up the courage to ask some of the questions that were bugging her after her exploration of the house.

"Mrs. Brown… I'm wondering…is there anything significant about the labyr…I mean…the hedge maze in the back yard?" she asked, sipping her lemonade and trying to act nonchalant.

The woman smiled and put down her mug of tea. "Well, it doesn't seem the sort of thing Mr. Rex would have, and it isn't really his thing. It was built by his great-grandfather, as a wedding present for his wife, Phillipa. She loved mazes and puzzles. My mother was just a little thing with it was finished. The Rex family had a huge party for all of the village to show off the structure. She said it was wondrous thing for that time."

"Oh…" Sarah said, oddly feeling a bit disappointed rather than relieved to find out that Mr. Rex didn't have anything do with it. Shaking the feeling off, she ate a bit more then asked, "So, when do we get to meet him? Mr. Rex that is."

Mrs. Brown sighed, "I honestly don't know, dear. He's off in London at the moment working and the last I was told, he wouldn't be back for another week at least. But I'm sure he'll get back to meet you as soon as he is able."

Two weeks later he had still not shown up or sent word of when he'd arrive. In fact, aside from the letter that arrived with Mr. Foster and the contract, Sarah hadn't heard a word from the elusive Mr. Rex. Although Mr. Rex was absent, Mrs. Brown did her best to make sure Toby and Sarah were looked after. The nanny Ms. Glen showed up the day after they arrived and took care of Toby most of the day, which left Sarah time to explore and read, although she spent most of her time either helping Mrs. Brown in the kitchen or playing the piano in the music room.

Then one morning, while Sarah and Toby were eating breakfast in the kitchen with Mrs. Brown, the kitchen phone rang. Wiping her hands off on her apron, Mrs. Brown picked it up, "Hello? Oh…good morning, Sir…..Really? Yes, of course your rooms are ready. Is Mr. Foster staying?...No…okay… yes, I'll make the arrangements. Dinner in the family dining room at 6. Yes, Sir. Have a safe drive."

When she hung up she smiled at Toby and Sarah. "Well, today is the day, it seems. Mr. Rex will be arriving sometime this afternoon and you two are to have dinner with him tonight."

From that point on the day was a blur of activity and worry. Sarah spent much of her day in the kitchen helping the cook and Mrs. Brown prepare dinner, as well as baking various cookies and cakes that Mr. Rex apparently liked to have on hand when he was home. She was a little surprised to learn that he had a hell of a sweet tooth. After the fifth batch of cookies and the third cake, she was starting to wonder if he looked a bit like Orson Wells or something. Finally she decided that he must be a very large man if he ate like this regularly.

In between cutting cookies and rotating trays in and out of the oven, Sarah's mind was filled with an ever churning ball of worries. What if Mr. Rex didn't like her…or Toby? What if they didn't get along? Would he be strict? Was he boring? Would he be someone she could confide in? Would he treat Toby like the father the little boy needed? What if…what if…what if.

At 4 Mrs. Brown shooed her from the kitchen. "Go on, dear. Go have a bit of a rest and a bath before dinner," she said, wiping her hands off on a tea towel hung over her shoulder. "Mr. Rex usually has a drink before dinner in the salon next to the family dining room. Since you're old enough, you could meet him there. Ms. Glen will bring Toby there right at 6," she added, then waved Sarah toward the hall door. "Go on…off with you. And don't go telling Mr. Rex that I let you help all day. No telling what he'll say about that and we don't want you starting off on the wrong foot with him."

Nodding Sarah took off toward her rooms, curling up on the window seat in her bedroom and watching the little gardener tending to some flower beds on the back lawn. She didn't think she was tired, until she woke with a start an hour later, cursing as the clock chimed 5.

"Shit! I'm running late," she grumbled, hopping off the seat and stripping on her way to the bathroom.

In 45 minutes she managed to have a quick shower, dry her hair, put on light make up and get herself down to the salon. As she reached the door, she slowed down and tried to catch her breath, not wanting to appear out of breath if he was already there. She nibbled at her lip and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, the other side caught back with a silver hair clasp that had been on the dresser in her room. Her hand smoothed down the navy blue dress she wore. The lightweight material flowed with her as she moved, without being 'clingy' thanks to the classic styling, that was reminiscent of the 1950s – with a high neckline, belted waist and a-line skirt. She had paired it with a simple pair of navy flats and pearl earrings that mimicked the dainty white polka dots that were scattered all over the material. Mrs. Brown had helped her pick out the dress earlier in the day and she was glad of the housekeepers help. After all, it wouldn't do to show up to dinner with Mr. Rex, one of the most powerful CEOs in the world, wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

Taking a deep breath she opened the salon door then breathed out in a rush. The room was empty. Steeling herself she entered, looking around. She had explored this room the first week she was in the house. It was essentially a place designed for 'waiting'. Like much of the house, this had a masculine feel, being dominated by dark woods and dark colored leather.

Sighing, Sarah stood by the windows at the back of the room, staring out at the deepening grey of dusk as it settled over the house. While she didn't live in the city in the US and wasn't exactly used to loud noises at all hours of the day, she was still getting used to just how still and quiet Tylluan House got at night. Being so far removed from cities and towns, when night fell, silence descended like a heavy veil over the land. The only sound at night was crickets and the occasional animal. The first few nights there, Sarah just lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, the deafening silence keeping her from sleep. It was so unnerving that she had taken to sleeping with her CD player on, just to have some background noise.

"Ah, good evening," said a crisply accented voice from the door. "I didn't expect anyone else to be in here."

At the sound of that voice, Sarah's blood ran cold. She recognized it. At least she thought she did. But no. It couldn't be. Slowly she turned around, and gasped, her eyes wide as she looked at the man in the door way. He looked like he had just stepped out of a 1950s advertisement, in an impressively tailored, double-breasted suit of black, with grey pinstripes. All he needed was a fedora and it would have been perfect. Then she looked at his face and felt her knees threaten to buckle. His hair was short and slicked back from his face, but there was no mistaking the sleek angles of his jaw and cheekbones, nor the steep arch of his eyebrows. Even without the makeup and the long hair, she saw him for who he really was.

"You….y-you're HIM…you're the Goblin king," she murmured in shock.

"No. I am Gareth Rex," he said with a sly smile as he entered the room.

"No. No. You're not. I can see it. You're Jar…You're Him.

"When I am here, in this world, in this guise, I am Gareth Rex," he replied, his lips curling in that characteristic smirk of his.

Gulping hard, her hands curled into fists at her sides. "You… y-you can't take Toby….I won't let you," she said, her voice shaking despite the defiant tilt of her chin.

With a quiet smile, he enters the room further crossing toward her, as she backs into a chair. "But you forget, Sarah…I already have him. And you too," he says with a soft chuckle, gesturing around. "This is my house. You are my wards. The deal is done."

"No…no…it's not possible….it can't be…" she muttered, looking around frantically. "I beat you….I won…you…you can't be here…" Sarah insisted, her breath starting to come in pained gasps as her lungs tightened, threatening to suffocate her.

As the wheezing got louder, Jareth's look of amusement turned to concern. Reaching out he gently took her elbow, guiding her to sit in the chair.

"Breathe, Sarah," he said, his tone quiet but firm, ignoring the way that she flinched when he touched her. "I'm not going to hurt you. Why on Earth would I go to all the trouble of rescuing you only to hurt you?"

"Res….cue…" she panted, shaking her head frantically. "You….di-din't…res…cue….me."

"As always, Sarah, I did exactly as you wished. I saved you from your nightmare. You wished it. I granted it. Isn't that generous?" he said, squatting low next to her chair to look her in the eye.

Her eyes glistened with tears as she helplessly shook her head, "No…you….you're…you're…oh God…I can't…" she gasped as the panic in her caused her chest to tighten further. "Can't….breathe…." she whispered, then broke free from his light grasp. She stumbled across the room, running into Mrs. Brown and Ms. Glen bringing Toby in.

"Sarah?" asked Mrs. Brown in surprise as Sarah pushed past her, wheezing and running toward the stairs. "Sarah dear…what's wrong."

Jareth sighed as he stood up, "Give her a few minutes to compose herself, Tess," he said to Mrs. Brown. Smiling at Toby he held out his hand, "While Sarah settles down, why don't you and I get acquainted, Toby."

Shyly, Toby took his hand, "How did you know everyone calls me Toby," he boy asked.

Taking a knee next to Toby, Jareth gave him a conspiratorial wink, "Why, my boy…we are old friends, you and I."

Toby tilted his head and looked at the man in front of him, getting a sudden flash of a similar man singing and dancing. "You remind me of someone," Toby muttered.

At this Jareth laughed and pulled Toby close into a hug. "We're going to get along /just/ fine, Toby lad. Just fine."

* * *

Sarah burst into her sitting room, slamming the door behind her and scrabbling to lock it. Once she was locked in, she caught a glimpse of the window, and the crystal at the center of the hedge maze. The crystal shimmered with orange and pink tones from the setting sun, the sight making her wheezing increase in her panic. Oh God…she'd seen the signs, but didn't take them seriously and now it was too late. Gasping and clawing at the neck of her dress, she peeled it from her body and threw it across the room toward the fireplace, then ran into the closet. With a panicked whimper she tugged her jeans on and grabbed a shirt from her suitcase, laughing hysterically when she realized it was the same full-sleeved linen shirt she wore through the Labyrinth.

"Appropriate," she gasped, trying to calm her thoughts and her breathing.

Dressed in clothes that hadn't come from 'Him', she started to calm down enough to think, pacing the sitting room as she tried to formulate a plan. She needed to figure out what was going on. What evil was Jareth up to. She had to get Toby away. Yes…run away. That was the ticket.

Before she could come up with how to get away, there was a knock at the sitting room door, the handle jiggling as someone tried to get in.

"Sarah…dear, open the door. Please," called Mrs. Brown.

"No. Go away," Sarah shouted, backing away from the door.

"Please dear…I know you're upset about something. Let me help," the housekeeper tried again.

"No…you're in it…with…/Him/," she yelled back as the door handle jiggled again.

"Look, dear…let's discuss this over a nice cup of tea. You don't have to eat with Mr. Rex and Toby, you can eat in the kitchen with me. Like you have been," she tried again. "Just you and me, dear."

"I'm not hungry!" she cried out, backing into the piano.

She stared at the door for several minutes until she was sure that Mrs. Brown had gone away. When she was sure she was alone again she collapsed onto the sofa with a sob. She'd have to get Toby away from him. That was the only option.

* * *

"Toby…come on. Wake up," Sarah whispered softly was she shook her little brother. "Please. Wake up."

Mumbling Toby cracked and eyelid and peeked at her, "Wha…what time is it?" Then he looked around. "Sarah…whatcha doing? It's the middle of the night."

"Come on, Tobes, get up. We're going on…a trip. But we have to go now," she said, pulling him up and starting to strip off his pajamas before he had even fully woken up. She tugged a t-shirt on him, then managed to wrestle him into his jeans before sitting him down and putting shoes on him. "Stay here," she says, and grabs his backpack, then digs into his closet to pull out some spare clothes, before helping him put the bag on.

Taking his hand, she pulled him toward the door to the hall, "Shh…we have to be /very/ quiet until we get outside. It's a big game of hide-and-seek, Tobes. You want to win don't you?"

The sleepy youngster nodded as his sister peeked into the hall, then led him to the back servants' stair case leading to the kitchen. When they get to the kitchen she pauses and tucks some fruit and fresh bread rolls into her back pack, along with some chocolate bars, then grabs Toby's hand again. She motions him to be silent as she hears footsteps creaking overhead, then relaxes as they stop.

"Let's go," she whispers and opens the back door, quickly leading Toby out before shutting it quietly. Breathing a sigh of relief at getting out of the house undetected, she starts to quickly walk Toby down the side of the house, walking through the grass to avoid leaving footprints or making sound on the gravel path. As they reached the front of the house she peered around the corner, pleased to see that the lights were off except for the one on the front steps. She pulled Toby along after her toward the building off by itself – the large garage. Sarah wasn't fully convinced that stealing a car was the best way to go, but she didn't have much choice. Toby couldn't walk the 6 kilometers into the village and no one there would help them if they did. She needed the car just to get them to the nearest city, then they'd ditch it and find another way to get London, and back home.

Reaching out to open the side door into the garage Sarah froze.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Sarah," Jareth said from behind her.

Sleepily Toby looked up at her, "We lost. Can I go to bed now?"

Groaning, Sarah turned around, feeling her face burn at the sight of Jareth/Gareth standing there in what appeared to be his pajamas - sweat pants, a tight t-shirt that clung to his chest, and a light robe. Louis stood beside him, shaking his head almost sadly.

Jareth walked toward Toby and held out his hand, which the child took, clutching Lancelot in his other hand. "Lost what, my boy?" he asked.

Yawning, Toby shrugged. "The game. Sarah said we were playing hide-and-seek. You found us….so I guess we lost. Huh?"

Jareth gave Sarah a hard look, which made her cringe, her gaze falling away from his. "Yes, my boy. The game is over now. You can go to bed." He stood up and passed Toby's hand to Louis, "Please take him back inside and get him back to bed, Louis. You may wake up Ms. Glen if you feel the need help."

Louis nodded silently and smiled warmly at Toby, starting to lead him back toward the house. "No!" Sarah said, lurching toward Louis and grabbing Toby's hand from him. "Leave him alone," she protested, turning to face Jareth. "You took him once, you can't have him again. I won him _back_!"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jareth sighed then looked at her. "Sarah, this is not the discussion I wanted to have with you upon my arrival home, much less in the middle of the night. Let the poor boy go back to bed. He'll be perfectly safe. I promise."

Frowning, she glared at him, "After everything you did to me, how do I know I can trust you?"

Jareth's eyes narrowed as his patience started to wear thin, "No matter what you may think of me or my motives, I cannot lie, Sarah. Not about this. So believe me when I tell you, Toby will be perfectly safe in his bed. No harm will befall him at my or any other hand."

"Your word," she insisted. "I want…your vow."

His mismatched eyes flashed with irritation, but he nodded. "Fine. You have it. If anything happens to him, now or ever under my roof, the contract is null and void. Happy now? Please let the child go to sleep, Sarah," Jareth growled, the smooth accent becoming clipped in his frustration.

Reluctantly Sarah let go of Toby, with Louis looking sadly at her. Shaking his head again he took Toby's hand and like a gentle giant, led the boy back toward the house.

"As for _you_, Precious," Jareth hissed, his voice low and firm. "Despite the lateness of the hour, I think it is time you and I had a little…chat."

* * *

**Author's Note 2:** And for the reviewer who wanted to quibble about travel times: New York to London is 8 hours (roughly). If they weren't flying in from New York (like say… from Maryland, Virginia, etc…) it would be longer. But since the social worker showed up to get Toby at 9am, and they left for the airport several hours later (say 3), that leaves them at the airport at noon. Add 1 hour for misc. paperwork and customs stuff before take-off and that means they are in the air around 2pm. Tack on 10 hours of flight time (since I never specified where they were starting from) and that takes us to midnight. But your assumption is that they are staying in London (which I never said). Given the Welsh naming of the house, we can assume they are going to Wales which is 3 hours and 50 minutes by car from Heathrow, bringing us to 4am – EST…but approximately 9am in the UK – in other words…morning.

While 'tea time' is technically around 4pm, there are any number of factors that could account for Foster's estimate being off. Maybe they were originally going to travel by train from Heathrow to Wales and that would have taken far longer. Maybe he made the decision to just drive. Maybe he expected it to take longer to get their plane in the air. Maybe…maybe…maybe….. Or maybe I just missed a continuity marker. *Bad author…no cookie* But hey…you know what? Shit happens. I've actually got a life, a husband, a job, a child, friends and hobbies OTHER than spending hours writing bits of fluff for people to get caught up on nit-picky things that REALLY DO NOT MATTER to the plot.

The point to fanfic is suspension of disbelief. If you choose to let minor errors get to you, then why bother reading it? I write these things for my own amusement. I am not a professional fiction writer – hell, I'm now a project manager for engineers! I could spend hours proofreading and editing (Lord knows I have enough experience at that) or I could choose to give things a quick edit and upload them faster.

So you can either put up with minor inconsistencies, or know that updates will take far longer and I will probably lose my interest in the story and outright stop writing again. I know which choice 98% of my readers and followers would make.

_**/end rant… bring on the Jareth!**_


	4. Ch 4 Coming to Terms

**Fifty Shades of Fey**

**Ch. 4: Coming to Terms**

_Jareth's eyes narrowed as his patience started to wear thin, "No matter what you may think of me or my motives, I cannot lie, Sarah. Not about this. So believe me when I tell you, Toby will be perfectly safe in his bed. No harm will befall him at my or any other hand."_

_"Your word," she insisted. "I want…your vow."_

_His mismatched eyes flashed with irritation, but he nodded. "Fine. You have it. If anything happens to him, now or ever under my roof, the contract is null and void. Happy now? Please let the child go to sleep, Sarah," Jareth growled, the smooth accent becoming clipped in his frustration. _

_Reluctantly Sarah let go of Toby, with Louis looking sadly at her. Shaking his head again he took Toby's hand and like a gentle giant, led the boy back toward the house._

_"As for you, Precious," Jareth hissed, his voice low and firm. "Despite the lateness of the hour, I think it is time you and I had a little…chat."_

"I have nothing to say to you," Sarah protested, cringing at the weak sound to her voice.

Jareth chuckled, his eyes flickering to silver in the moonlight. "Be that as it may, I have things to say to you, as there are things you need to understand about your presence here and what is expected of you."

Her green eyes went wide at the idea that something was 'expected' of her and she blanched. He could see her processing the possible meanings of that. The paleness slowly turned to a tinge of crimson and she blushed, a sight which made him smile as it was a far more promising reaction than he had expected. As he watched her fidget uncomfortably, a crunching sound echoed from around the side of the house as Mrs. Brown hurried out.

"Sir? Is everything all right?" she asked as she caught up with them, her fluffy pink robe clutched around herself. Turning concerned eyes toward Sarah, she continued, "I saw Louis with Toby. Are you and Toby okay?"

Sarah opened her mouth to tell the woman in no uncertain terms that they were absolutely _not_ okay, but Jareth silenced her with a stern look, her mouth snapping shut with an audible click.

"They are fine, Mrs. Brown. Just a bit of a misunderstanding on Sarah's part. One we will remedy at once," he said smoothly, his tone quiet and authoritative. "Please escort Sarah to my study, I will be there momentarily to speak with her."

"But Sir…it is nearly 3 in the morning," Mrs. Brown frowned in disapproval. "Can't it wait until the morning?"

He looked at Sarah, her green eyes filled with distrust and fear, then he shook his head. "No, I'm afraid it has waited long enough," he replied, then smiled quietly at the housekeeper. "Please Tess. Take Sarah to my study, then prepare us a small tray since she missed dinner."

Sarah visibly bristled at this, but he pinned her in place with a hard look. "You _will_ wait for me in my study, Sarah. It is high time you understood the full impact of your situation."

Mrs. Brown took Sarah's elbow, the girl flinching but not pulling away. "Come along dear, let's get you out of the night air. And you too, Sir. Neither of you is dressed to be out in this damp chill."

Jareth couldn't help but smile at the motherly way she gave orders, even to him, something he never let his own subjects get away with. "Yes. I will be in momentarily. I want to make sure things are locked up first."

Nodding, the older woman guided Sarah toward the house, the girl looking briefly at him over her shoulder. He could see the questions in her eyes and sighed. This was not going to be an easy discussion, but there were things she needed to know. Her life was about to change, whether she liked it or not.

And he had the contract to prove it.

* * *

Sarah when Mrs. Brown opened the door to Jareth's study. "Well, go on dear. I'll bring you a lite supper in a few minutes, she said, nudging Sarah into the room then shutting the door before disappearing down the hall. With a disgruntled sigh, she waited until she could hear Mrs. Brown leave the hall, then reached for the door.

"Honestly, Sarah," Jareth said from the far side of the room, his tone hard. "Why must you disobey every little request?"

Frowning she turned around, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at him. She didn't need to ask where he came from, she knew. Stupid bloody Fae and their magic. He stood by the window, not evening looking at her as he peered out over the hedge maze in the back yard. Slowly he turned around, and looked at her with a bemused expression.

"Please sit down," he said quietly, gesturing toward the chairs in front of the desk.

"I'd rather stand."

Jareth's eyes flashed darkly at her continued defiance. As he waved his hand to move her himself, he saw her flinch. Instead of transporting her, he flicked his wrist toward one of the chairs by the desk. The next instant it slid over to her and knocked her behind the knees, forcing her to sit in it as it moved back to its place. "I do not recall asking whether it please your _Highness_," Jareth replied with a hard stare. "That was an order and in this house, you are expected to follow orders. Consider this lesson one."

Gawping at him, Sarah tried to get up from her chair but found she couldn't. "It's not fair," she muttered, struggling against the invisible force holding her in the chair.

With a soft laugh, Jareth settled into his own chair and looked at her across the expansive top of the desk. "I see you are still under the impression that life should be fair," he said, the stormy expression of a moment earlier fading to one of amusement and disbelief. "I would have thought that your little trip through my kingdom would have disbused you of the notion, my dear."

Finally giving up on moving, she glared at him opening her mouth to speak when Mrs. Brown came bustling into the room carrying a tray. Jareth arched an eyebrow at her, as if daring her to speak, but she didn't, instead thanking Mrs. Brown as the housekeeper set the tray on the desk between them. '

"There, that should hold you both over until breakfast," she said, nodding at the contents of the tray. "Mind your tongues though, that soup is hot," she added, sitting mugs of creamy chicken soup in front of them. "There's a bit of sandwich for each of you and some cookies," she chuckled, nodding at 'Mr. Rex', then winking at Sarah. "Silly man is convinced it isn't a meal if there isn't dessert."

Sarah watched as he gave Mrs. Brown a warm smile, his blue eyes shining with affection. Her lips pursed as she realized he looked at others like that, Toby and Louis…but not her. Somehow, the realization that he was fond of Toby but not her hurt, leaving her stomach aching as if she had been punched.

"Thank you, Tess. That will be all. I'll take care of tidying this up when we are done having our chat," he said.

Mrs. Brown patted Sarah on the shoulder, startling her, "Now you be a good girl and eat up. I'll hold breakfast until 9 in the morning since you'll need a bit of a lie in after being up so late."

Jareth nodded in agreement, "Thank you, but please feed Toby when he gets up. I want him kept to his normal schedule. I don't want anything between Sarah and myself to disturb his new life," he added, giving Sarah a dark look that made her squirm a bit in her chair.

Smiling, Mrs. Brown waved good night and shut the study door behind her, leaving Sarah and Jareth alone once more. With a frown, Sarah pushed the mug of soup away, refusing to look at Jareth. Shrugging, he picked up a sandwich and dunked a corner into his soup, then bit into it, seemingly ignoring her. After a few minutes, he finally spoke.

"Really Sarah…aren't you a bit old for the petulant child routine? You should eat," he said in a conversational tone. "The food isn't poisoned if that is what you are worried about."

She grumbled as she looked at him, "I know about the Fae and their food. And I don't trust you, even if you _are_ in this realm."

Jareth laughed at that, the sound bouncing warmly off the walls of his office, "Oh…you are precious sometimes, Sarah."

"I hardly think it is funny. Everyone knows that eating fairy food means you are trapped there," she muttered, slouching in the chair as much as the magical force holding her would let her.

"Precious girl, it is funny because it does not apply to you. For one thing, Mrs. Brown made the food, using Aboveground produce and methods. She is not magical and to my knowledge does not know about me or my family. So in that way, her food is safe. And as for the 'rules', they are both erroneous and no longer apply to you or Toby."

Biting her lip, Sarah though this over, "Wait…no longer apply to me? Why….Because of that stupid contract?"

"Well, the actual rule is that to eat Fae food ties you to the kingdom forever, making you Fae-marked. And since you and Toby both ate while in my lands, you are already marked," he said matter-of-factly, then calmly resumed eating as he waited for her to register the impact of what he said.

"I…we…didn't…." she protested, then went pale. "Wait…the peach! You had Hoggle feed me that poisoned peach!"

"Now, now…don't go exaggerating, my dear. It was hardly poisoned, Sarah. Believe me, if I wanted you dead, I assure you, you would be," he laughed, making her frown deepen.

He couldn't help but smirk at the almost audible growl in her voice, "You cheated…you fed Toby. That isn't fair! He was a baby…he didn't understand what he was doing."

"And you did?" Jareth chuckled? "As I recall, you ate the peach willingly enough. It isn't as if I had tied you down and forced fed you."

Jareth couldn't help but crack a smile at the way she both looked furious and blushed at the same time. The blushing in and of itself was endearing in a way, to know that he had an effect on the girl in some way. However, considering his carefully chosen words, her reaction was far more promising.

"Well…okay…maybe I did. But you still forced Toby," she insisted, puzzled at the serious look that came across his face as he shook his head.

"No, Precious. I am many things, but I do not 'force' children to do anything. I do not 'harm' children."

"Hah!" she barked, giving him a dark look. "You forced me into your sick and twisted game. Then you set the cleaners and Humungous on me. So don't lie, Jareth. You did plenty of harm."

His look turned hard and cold at that. "Let's get some things straight right now, Sarah. I do _not_ lie. I am Fae and royalty, I am incapable of lying to a human. Secondly, you were not a child when you wished Toby away. You knew full well what you were doing when you said those words. Not only that, but you had had your first moon bleed by then, which meant that by the laws of my kingdom, you were a woman, not a mere child."

At his words she turned crimson. Jareth could read the look of desperation and embarrassment on her face at that. He sighed, quelching the desire to laugh at her reaction. Humans were so touchy and squeamish about simple biological functions that the Fae didn't think twice about.

"How….how did you know that," she almost whispered, her voice cracking.

He waved off the question, "It doesn't matter, Sarah. The fact is, you were not a child."

"No…really…how did you know?" she insisted. "What sort of sick pervert are you?" she asked, anger seeping into her voice. "Were you _spying_ on me?!"

Jareth growled inwardly. Gods! The girl tried his patience. Every time he tried to show her some bit of compassion she would insult him in some way. It was really too much.

"Enough! No, I was not spying on you, Sarah. Believe it or not, you are not as interesting as you may think!" he snapped. "If you _must _know, Fae are quite sensitive to smells. When you were running the Labyrinth, I could smell the iron on you and knew your time was again near. As for Toby, the child was hungry and I marked him as my heir the moment he set foot in the throne room, so feeding him was no longer an issue."

"You cheated!" Sarah huffed at this, "I won him back. You had no right to mark him until you knew the outcome of the game."

It was Jareth's turn to frown at the unhappy memory of losing his heir. "Sarah, no one had beaten the Labyrinth in a millennia. For you to win was wholly unexpected. Thus, I was within my right to mark him the moment he set foot in my throne room," he replied, breaking a sugar cookie sprinkled with silvery sugar crystals into pieces and biting into one. "The fact of the matter is, you were both Fae-marked before you were returned to your home."

"So, what did that mean?" she muttered with a frown.

He shrugged. "Marking you just meant that should any other Fae encounter you Above, they would know that you were being protected by the Goblin Kingdom. In essence, you were marked as wards of the crown," he replied, nudging the other sandwich toward her.

Sarah shook her head, but finally lifted the cup of soup, sipping a bit of the hot liquid. She drank quietly a moment, then sighed, a defeated look settling on her face, her green eyes troubled and sad. "So what…you killed our parents to get revenge?" she asked, tears shimmering in her eyes.

Jareth felt a pang of hurt that she would think he could do that, then swallowed it. He had played the villain to her heroine too well, it was the only role she knew for him. While he knew her question was understandable, it still hurt. Shaking it off, he shook his head.

"No, Precious," he said softly, flicking his hand and offering her a handkerchief which she surprisingly took. She scrubbed roughly at her eyes and smearing the remains of the make-up she had been wearing earlier, as he sighed. "No…your father was a good man. In returning you to your home, as you were marked, I needed to retain some connection to you to ensure your continued protection. So, I sought out your father for legitimate reasons. He was very knowledgeable in his field which tied well with my Aboveground businesses," Jareth said, his own blue eyes tinged with grief. "If I could have stopped the accident, believe me Precious, I would have. But to meddle in the affairs of the Fates is a nasty business, which would have had negative consequences for you and Toby, as well as your parents."

With a hitch in her voice she whispered, "Was the will real? Or…. Just an elaborate ruse?"

"It was real, Precious," he said quietly. "Your father asked me to act as your guardian on his last visit here."

Her green eyes sought his, a tear slowly trickling down her cheek. She rubbed the tear away with her sleeve. "Dad…he'd…been here?"

Jareth nodded. "Yes. He enjoyed his time here and planned to bring you, your step-mother and Toby for a visit next summer, as a graduation gift for you."

At this news Sarah's tears burst forth, sliding easily down her face. "It isn't fair," she sniffled softly.

For once, he didn't tease her about it. In his own heart he felt the unfairness of it too, and if he could have fixed it, he would.

"No, Precious Sarah, it isn't. But, what's done is done. I did as your father asked and assumed the guardianship for you and Toby."

She nodded, crying softly for several long minutes. Jareth stood up and went to the window, giving her some measure of privacy for her grief.

"So why the need for a contract, if we are already wards of your kingdom?" she asked finally, wiping the last of the tears from her face.

Jareth pursed his lips, steeling himself. This was the question he had been waiting for. She had signed over more power than she knew – he was so much more than their guardian.

Sarah watched him slowly turn around and lean against the windowsill, his blue eyes seeming stormy grey in the dim light near the window. She didn't feel afraid of him, but the odd look he gave her made her stomach clench. There was something about that look that made her wary.

"The contract was necessary because you are so near the age of adulthood in the Above. I needed your consent to take Toby and you as my wards here," he said, his tone even and quiet. "I did not want there to be any question of my motives where the authorities here are concerned."

She frowned slightly, thinking over what he said.

"But if we were already marked as wards of the Goblin Kingdom, couldn't you just take us there?" she asked.

"I could have, yes." He replied, giving her his characteristic smirk. Twisting his wrist and conjuring a crystal, he chuckled as she cringed, "Why? Do you want to go there? You have but to ask, Sarah."

It was her turn to shake her head, and she did – somewhat frantically he thought ruefully.

"No. No. Um…thanks," she stammered, giving a slight laugh.

Jareth smiled, "The fact is, I'm not as much of a monster as you think, Sarah. You and Toby had suffered a great loss. I did not think it best for either of you, to rip you away from your whole world. That said, the contract applies both in the mundane world and the magical realm. You signed it willingly, giving yourself unto my guardianship until your 21st birthday," Jareth said, choosing his next words carefully as he gave her a dark smile. He had been waiting for this and his moment was at hand. "Giving me _power_ over you."

Sarah's face fell as his words hit her, a look of disbelief settling in on her features.

"Oh no…" she gasped, shaking her head.

"Oh yes, my dear. You both belong to me. And as such, there are rules that must be followed," he added, his smile widening as his eyes flashed darkly, a feeling of triumph shivering through him as he looked at her. The girl may have beaten his Labyrinth, but he had won in the end. And no matter what she thought, the game was not yet over. There was more at stake than she knew. Far more.

"Rules?" she managed to squeak, her hands tight on the arms of the chair.

"Indeed. Rules. Firstly, I expect obedience," he replied, sitting back down in his desk chair and sipping his tea as he waited to see her reaction, secretly pleased when the fire lit in her eyes. He was sure she would have jumped to her feet if she hadn't been held fast in her chair by his magic.

"Fuck off!" she snapped struggling against the chair again.

He couldn't help the cruel smile at her outburst. Oh yes, she was going to hate him soon enough, and he was going to savor every minute.

"Yes, Princess…rules," he laughed.

"Don't call me _that_!" she hissed, glaring at him. "I'm not your 'Princess' and I'm not going to obey you, Jareth. You can't ask me to do whatever sick and perverted things you come up with and expect me to actually _do_ it!"

He struggled not to laugh. Really, she was making this far too easy and he hadn't even begun to toy with her yet.

"Firstly, if you are going to act like a spoiled princess, then I will call you that. As for _ordering_ you to do whatever is in my head, I think it is _you_ who keep coming up with the sick and perverted ideas, not me…since it is _you_ who keep using that phrase," he snapped in response, his eyes flickering with dark laughter. "Unless you would _like_ me to give you perverted and twisted orders?"

Sarah sat there, her mouth opening and closing while she blushed. Eventually she just shut her mouth and shook her head, settling for glaring angrily at him.

"If you are quite finished making assumptions as to my motives, _Princess_, I'd like to finish so we can both get to bed," he said, rolling his eyes at the look of hate and fear that came from her at his words. "In our _own_ beds, Sarah dear. Honestly. It seems that you are the one having impure thoughts, not me." That stopped her cold, her eyes dropping as she flushed hotter. "Now then, I expect obedience, end of story. You are to do what you are told when instructions are given to you for your own welfare or Toby's. I will not instruct you to do things that will harm you or Toby. Your safety is my key concern. Understand?"

Sarah nodded mutely.

He hadn't planned on giving her too many rules for the moment, as it wouldn't do to overwhelm her, but her responses were so lovely he couldn't resist teasing her a bit further.

"When you are in this room and we are alone, particularly when you are in trouble, and believe me Princess, I am anything _but_ pleased with your behavior tonight, the correct response to a question of that kind is 'Yes, Majesty', or "Yes, Sir'," he said, his tone firm as his eyes narrowed sternly. He was pleased to see her cringe a bit, shrinking down into her chair. "Say it," he demanded quietly.

"Yes, Jareth," she muttered, defiance creeping into her posture and face once more.

Jareth gave a frustrated sigh, while chuckling inwardly. Although she was blatantly disobeying him (still), he did rather like the way she said his name.

"I'll let that slide…for tonight. In future, I won't, however. You see, failure to obey from tonight on, will result in punishment," he said, with a smooth smirk at the flash of indignation in her eyes.

"You wouldn't _dare!_" she hissed, her jade eyes wide in surprise.

He leaned over the desk, "Yes…I would. And I will. Consider yourself warned, Sarah. I've been generous up to now, but I can be cruel. And you, my dear, are pushing your luck."

Her face screwed up a bit as she stared daggers at him, to such a degree that he made a mental note to ban her from helping in the kitchen anymore, as he wouldn't put it past the angry minx to try to poison his food.

"How," she demanded, spitting the word out as if it burned.

He shrugged, "Punishment will fit the crime. Something like calling me by the wrong name, might find you sitting here all evening writing lines while I work." Smiling at the way her eyes narrowed angrily, he added, "I can be _most_ inventive, Sarah. So I suggest you just do as you are asked."

Jareth was torn between being pleased when she visibly bristled, but didn't reply, and being slightly disappointed that she was giving in so easily.

"So, obedience is expected or punishment will be awarded," he said conversationally. "When it comes to Toby's well-being, Ms. Glen takes her orders from me. As his family, I am always willing to listen to your ideas, but I _am_ the final word in this house. Is that clear, Sarah?"

She nodded, no longer looking at him. He chuckled to himself but let it slide for tonight.

"As to your schooling," he continued, noting the way her head snapped up. "I have enrolled you at the local private academy. Louis will take you and pick you up each day – unless I am in residence, in which case I may do so."

"But I drove my own car at home," she protested.

Jareth shook his head, "Be that as it may, your actions tonight show me that you can't be trusted with a car just now, Sarah. Really? Did you even think about the potential consequences you would face for _kidnapping_ the ward of one of the most powerful CEOs in the world?" he asked with a frown. "You could have been facing legal charges and put in jail, silly girl."

"He's my brother," she muttered.

"And he is my ward…at the moment, dear girl, my authority over your brother trumps yours. You'd best remember that if you ever think about doing something so inconceivably stupid again. As for that, if you find that you want to run away, know this…" he said, leaning over the desk and pinning her in place with a hard look. "You are _mine_, Sarah. I will _always_ come for what belongs to me. Make no mistake. There is nowhere in this realm you could hide that I would not find you."

She nodded, swallowing hard.

"Good. I'm glad we understand each other on that point. Now then, back to the matter of your schooling….I know what your grades were like, and I expect you to keep them up here just as you would at home. You will be expected to participate in the usual sorts of activities, but I reserve the right to suggest or veto any proposed extra-curricular activities," he added.

Sarah's frown deepened again, "I don't do extra-curriculars."

He laughed. "Don't lie to me, Sarah. Your father frequently bragged about your accomplishments in music and sports. I have already enrolled you in the high school orchestra and field hockey try-outs are next week. You _will_ be going."

Her expression darkened, but she said nothing, and Jareth had a pretty good idea what she was picturing doing to him with her field hockey stick. Sighing he glanced at the clock. 4:15 in the morning already and he wasn't through going over things with the girl. With a flick of his wrist he adjusted it back and hour. Sarah muttered softly as she watched the hands swirl backwards.

"What about Toby's school?" she finally asked.

"As my ward and heir, Toby won't start at the local academy until he is 6. For the next year he will be schooled by Ms. Glen and other tutors as needed," he said with a shrug. He watched as she nodded, seeing the fight seeming to leave her as weariness settled in, he should get her to her bed soon. "As far as other rules go, those are the most important. Above all, I expect you to take care of yourself and Toby. Keep both of you safe and well, whether I am home or elsewhere, Sarah," he said, a hint of gentleness creeping into his voice. "When I come home after being away, I will expect you to report to me in the salon before dinner and tell me how things went while I was gone. Furthermore, whenever I am in residence, I expect you to eat with me. No more excuses."

She frowned, but nodded, her cheeks twitching visibly as she stifled a yawn.

"Good girl. Now, finish the soup at least and get some sleep. You will be going into London with me tomorrow to get things you'll need for school. So be up and in the dining room by 9," he said, casually conjuring a crystal and tossing it at the tray of half-eaten food, making it disappear with a soft popping noise.

Pursing her lips she tried to get up, surprised when she was able to stand. Sarah sighed as she walked to the door of his study and opened it. As she stepped over the threshold, she paused and turned around. "You may have the contract, Jareth…but this doesn't mean you've won. You will _never_ have power over me, not really."

He gave her a wicked smirk, swirling a crystal on his fingertips.

"Ahh…that is where you are wrong, Sarah dear," he chuckled, flicking the crystal at her. "Because I do."

Starting to protest, she gasped when she suddenly found herself tucked in her bed dressed in one of the buttery soft linen nightgowns from her closet.

"Bastard…" she muttered, thumping the pillow irritably as she slid further under the covers.

"I heard that," she heard him say, the sound whispering around her, as she pulled the covers up to her ears. "Good night, Precious."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** As always...thanks for reading and reviewing. I love seeing what everyone thinks is going on and the comments! :)


	5. Ch5: I Can Be Generous

**Fifty Shades of Fey**

**Ch. 5: I Can Be Generous**

Sarah couldn't breathe. She tried and tried but the air was thick and hot, refusing to inflate her lungs. Gasping, she struggled to open her eyes, a film of white shrouding her vision. She tried to scream, the sound catching in her throat as she fought against the bindings keeping her from the air her lungs so desperately craved. Finally managing a half-strangled scream, she clawed at the shimmering white, ripping material dripping with glittery crystals from her face, only to look around in horror. She was back in the Labyrinth, her body tightly encased in the silvery white confection of a ball gown from the peach nightmare, the bodice squeezing her chest and keeping her lungs from inflating. All around her, the dancers from the ball continued to swirl around the crystal ballroom, a ballroom that had fallen into a state of disrepair. Curtains hung limp and torn from the columns, stains of age turning them an ugly shade of grey. The once decadent garb of the dancers, was now threadbare and falling apart, hanging limply upon decayed and rotting bodies. Yet still they swirled in their macabre dance, cackling and laughing at her, as the eerie music seemed to seep into her bones, making her ache to move with them and join the dance.

Grunting as she tried to breathe, she fought her way through the throng of bodies, trying desperately to avoid touching them, but they reached out to her, grasping and clawing at her body, tearing strips from the shimmery dress and drawing blood where they scratched her. A flash of deep blue teased her from the corner of her eye. She whipped around, looking for him, but he was gone. As she paused to search for him again, the dancers closed in, the cackling growling louder and louder. With a whimper she realized she was pinned in, a press of rotting flesh surrounding her as red-headed courtier leaned in close, her words like dried leaves crackling to dust ,"You belong… to… ussssssss…. Saaaaaraaaaaahhhh." She tried to scream, terror flooding her body but no sound came as the rotting corpse of the dancer sucked the very air from her lungs. "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaance…..with….ussssssssss…."

* * *

Sarah woke with a start, her lungs burning as she gasped and wheezed, fighting to breathe. Grabbing blindly for the nightstand she knocked things from the top as she tried desperately to find her inhaler. For the love of God…where was it?! She always laid it on top. Her wheezing worsened in her panic, as her vision began to narrow. _Oh fuck…this can't be how I die…_she thought with a sob. A moment later she felt the cool mouthpiece slipped between her lips, and a warm arm pulling her back to lean against a firm chest.

"Inhale…Come on, Precious," came the quiet voice behind her, as she heard the inhaler being depressed.

No matter how much she hated him and the idea of doing anything he told her, when she heard the inhaler depress, she couldn't help but obey. She inhaled deep, coughing as she tried to hold the mist in her lungs, then slowly exhaling. As her lungs began to work, she coughed harder, dimly aware of a warm hand, firmly rubbing and patting her back, just like her father used to when she had a bad asthma attack in the middle of the night. That thought made her chest ache for an entirely different reason, her eyes welling up. When the coughing settled, she felt the inhaler being pressed to her lips again and automatically wrapped her lips around it. "Again," he ordered quietly, pressing down on the little metal canister. She breathed in the mist, her lungs inflating further this time, as she was able to hold it inside. When she finally exhaled, she felt the hand again, rubbing her back as he hummed quietly, a melody her father used to hum when she woke up with bad dreams. Unable to help herself, she started to sob. It was too much. Too damn much. She hurt. Her heart hurt. Her lungs hurt. Her brain hurt. And she was so tired of hurting.

Jareth didn't say anything, there was no need. Instead, he simply held her as she cried, her tears hot against his chest as they seeped through his shirt. No matter what she may think of him, he was not the cruel monster she assumed him to be. He had his quirks and wasn't above being a bit of a bastard to her for fun, but he didn't like seeing her in this kind of pain. The blasted girl might have defied him at every chance, then turned him down flat when he offered her everything…including himself, but even then, he didn't want to see her suffer – not like this at least. He could not only feel her heartache rolling off her, he could smell the anguish in her tears, the smell like ashes and graveyard dust, dry and cloying at the same time.

Over time, she shifted in his arms, wrapping her own arms around his chest. He was surprised at first, then heard her as she cried, choked words drifting to his ear. "Daddy… why….I told you…stay home…why didn't you listen?! My fault…should've done something…made you stay…" she sobbed against him. Jareth felt his heart ache for her, at the realization that she blamed herself. Gently, Jareth rocked her, quietly singing a lullaby his mother used to sing to him when he was a small boy. One day he hoped to sing it to his own child. While she was most certainly not a child, the tears being shed were those of a girl who desperately needed comforting. So for now, this night, he sang it for her. As the sweet melody continued, he felt her begin to relax, the sobs softening to quiet tears. When the tears dried up, he felt her gentle breathing against his chest, the slow, deep breaths of one on the edge of sleep. Before he could think better of it, he kissed the top of her head, "Sleep, Sarah. No dreams," he murmured, feeling her fall limply into sleep as the magical command took effect. He hated doing it, but she needed it, a peaceful sleep with no dreams to haunt her or disturb her. Carefully Jareth laid her down, tucking the covers back around her, then brushing stray tendrils from her face.

"Oh my Precious girl…what _am_ I going to do with you?" he sighed, then shimmered, disappearing from her bedside.

* * *

Sarah woke to a knocking on her bedroom door, the sound jarring her from sleep. "If that's you Jareth, you can fuck off," Sarah growled, pulling a pillow over her head and burrowing back under the covers.

The door opened and Mrs. Brown swept in, sitting a mug of tea down on the nightstand. "Well, I don't know any Jareth, but I hope he thinks you're cute if you talk to him like that," she chirped far too cheerfully for the hour, at least in Sarah's opinion. "And you'd best not let Mr. Rex catch you with any boys in your room, or there will be hell to pay."

Processing this in her still half-asleep state, Sarah giggled. "I'd like to see Mr. Rex beat up Jareth. That could be good fun," she snickered, earning a puzzled and slightly disapproving look from Mrs. Brown.

The housekeeper shrugged, then opened the curtains. "Mr. Rex is up already. He told me to move your breakfast until 9:30, but make sure you were up by 8:30," she said, pointing at the tea. "That's to help you get moving. Don't keep him waiting for breakfast. It's his favourite meal of the day, but he won't start until all of the family in the house are present, and for now, that means you."

Sarah growled to herself at the gall of the man, as she picked up the tea and sipped it. Mrs. Brown threw open her closet and started going through the clothes. "You're heading to the city with him, so you'll have to dress appropriately," she said, pulling out clothes and laying them on Sarah's bed.

"I'll pick something out myself today," Sarah replied, wrinkling her nose up at the sundresses and skirts the older woman was laying out.

Mrs. Brown looked skeptically at her, "Are you sure? Mr. Rex has certain standards of dress he likes to have held."

_I'll wear what I bloody well like and 'Mr. Rex' can go fuck himself if he doesn't like it_… Sarah thought to herself, while smiling warmly at Mrs. Brown. "I know. He covered that in our 'chat' last night," she lied.

Nodding, Mrs. Brown hung the clothes back up, then headed toward the door. "Remember, 9:30 sharp. Don't make him wait, he won't be happy," she warned, earning a shrug from Sarah. Shaking her head the housekeeper left, the girl would learn – the hard way if need be. And if Mr. Rex was anything like his father had been when it came to disciplining those in his care, it was likely to be a painful lesson.

Once Mrs. Brown left, Sarah took the tea into the bathroom with her and started to get ready for her day out with 'Mr. Rex'. If she was honest with herself, she was torn where it came to 'Gareth'. On the one hand, she was angry that she had stupidly given him complete power over her and Toby's lives. On the other hand, he really did seem to have Toby's well-being in mind, so that was a good thing since he also had the means to make sure Toby got the best of everything. Then there was the way he came to her rescue last night – although she still had some questions about that, most pressing being how he knew she was in trouble.

Sighing, she stripped down and went to step into the shower, before her eyes fell on the mirror. She noticed the way it seemed to ripple in the light and frowned. Grabbing a towel Sarah wrapped it around herself, then climbed up on the counter top to drape another towel over the mirror. _Just in case he gets any ideas…_ she thought with a satisfied nod. He might have played 'knight-in-shining-armor' last night, but that didn't give him a free pass. She still didn't know what his motives were and didn't trust him. Until she was satisfied his motives were on the up-and-up, she intended to be very careful in her dealings with him. And as far as his 'rules' were concerned, well...she had every intention of making him rue the day he thought he could rule her or her life.

* * *

"You're late," Jareth said, not looking up from the newspaper he was reading, as he sat at the head of the breakfast table in the sunroom. "You were to be here 15 minutes ago."

Shrugging, Sarah sat down at the place set for her, dropped her napkin in her lap and the casually poured a cup of coffee for herself. "I slept late," she replied, sipping the coffee and ignoring the way he glared at her, one sculpted eyebrow arching sternly.

"And tell me, _Princess_, just what part of our conversation last night made you think pushing me this soon was going to be a good idea? I let your actions of last night slide, but I thought I made it clear that would be the last time."

"It's 15 minutes, Jareth," Sarah grumbled. "Not the end of the world."

"True enough, however my orders were quite clear and I know for a fact that Mrs. Brown woke you at 8:30 this morning," he replied, folding the newspaper up and sitting it aside, frustration etched on his face.

Jareth knew he was pushing her, but she needed something to rail against instead of letting herself sink into sadness, and it might as well be him. Sighing inwardly, looked at her and felt a pang of worry settle in his heart. She had no idea just how different her life was going to be with him, not just Aboveground, but eventually Underground, and he knew she was not in the right place mentally or emotionally for him to tell her the whole of it.

He had no choice but to continue to play the villain, while preparing , he was somewhat enjoying the way she pushed back and didn't really want to break her spirit, but things were going to be different for her now and she needed to learn that early on – coddling her would make things far worse. He watched Sarah as she pointedly ignored him, while Mrs. Brown and the kitchen girl came in, carrying plates of food. No matter what she may think of him, his help in this situation was given freely –no matter what the stipulations of her father's will said. Jareth couldn't stand to see her lose Toby when she fought so hard to keep him when she was younger, and the two siblings had already lost so much, each other was all they had left.

Sarah scowled pointedly at him as Mrs. Brown bustled around the large table.

"Oh good, you're here, Sarah," the housekeeper said, sitting a heavily laden plate of crepes, eggs and bacon in front of 'Mr. Rex'. "Sir, as you won't be here for the midday meal, did you require anything special in regards to dinner tonight?"

Jareth shook his head as he picked up his fork. "Nothing special tonight. Please make sure Toby is fed at his usual time. Sarah will take her evening meal with me," he said, not taking his eyes off Sarah as he spoke, and somewhat relieved that the girl had good grace to look a bit sheepish while she picked at the plate that the kitchen girl, Anna, put in front of her. "We'll take a light supper in my study tonight, Mrs. Brown."

The housekeeper nodded, shooing Anna from the room. "Very good, Sir. I'll tell cook."

When Mrs. Brown and Anna left the room, Sarah's frown deepened as she poked at her eggs. "I don't see why I can't eat in the kitchen with Toby. Why punish me by making me eat with you?"

Jareth sighed irritably, clearly the girl had not been paying attention to all he said last night.

"Dining with me is _not _the punishment for being late, we'll deal with _that_ later. As I told you last night, Sarah…when I am in residence, you will take your meals with me, as is fitting someone of your age and status in a house such as this," he added, picking up his flatware and starting to cut into his breakfast. "Furthermore, when I am at home, you are to be in my study at 9pm every night for an accounting of your day –including granting rewards for good behavior and punishments for bad."

Her silverware clattered against her plate as she dropped them, looking at him in disbelief. "You can't be serious, Jareth."

Ignoring her he continued, "When I am not at home, I expect you to ring each night at the same time, but all rewards and punishments will wait until I return. And another thing," he said, fixing her with an icy stare, "When the staff and others are around, you are to call me Gareth or Mr. Rex. Am I making myself _perfectly _clear?"

His tone was quiet but stern, as was the expression on his face. Sarah was struck by a feeling she couldn't quite identify, but without thinking she heard herself say, "Yes, Sir."

"Much better," he said, his tone thawing as he smiled at her, his demeanor thawing as well. "Now, eat. We have lots to do today to get you ready for classes to start next week."

Sarah pushed her breakfast around her plate a bit, still wondering at the feeling that came over her. She thought for a moment he had manipulated her with magic, but the feeling was different from the way he pinned her to the chair the night before. This was something else, she just wasn't sure what. Finally she swallowed a bite and asked, "Are we staying the night in London?"

Jareth gave her a puzzled look, "Why would we do that?"

"Well, it's a 4 hour trip. There and back is 8 hours," she muttered, suddenly wondering if she had the math wrong from the way he looked at her. "So…um… we'd have to stay the night if we are to have any time for shopping."

He smiled and went back to eating, "We aren't taking the car today, Precious."

As he said that she heard a loud whirring at the front of the house. Startled she went to get up, but stayed in her seat as he didn't seem to be the slightest bit worried by the sound.

"Helicopter, Sarah. Now eat," he simply said, returning to his newspaper as he ate.

Sighing, Sarah started to eat as her stomach gurgled. Rules. Punishments. Cranky Goblin Kings. And helicopters on the front lawn. What next, she wondered. It was all just a bit much.

* * *

Sarah couldn't believe her eyes as she stood on the small wooden pedestal set between three mirrors and took in her reflection.

"You're kidding me," she grumbled, turning around to face Jareth who lounged in an arm chair dictating a letter to his secretary via the phone. "What is this? Some anime school?"

Jareth couldn't help but laugh at that, covering the mouthpiece of the phone as he did so. In truth, she did look a bit like an anime schoolgirl in the short plaid skirt in shades of blue, green and black; a plain white shirt, navy tie and green blazer, complete with a golden crest and buttons, adding to the look.

"On the contrary, Sarah dear. This is one of the best academies for young women of means in the country. Many of your classmates are sent here from other regions of Europe as boarding students."

At this her eyes lit up, "Could I board too?"

His lips curled as he grinned at her, having anticipated this question coming at some point, just not so soon. Shaking his head he hung up the phone, then said, "No, I want you where I can keep an eye on you and make sure you stay out of mischief," he chuckled.

Sarah huffed, turning toward the mirrors again.

"I don't see why not. What sort of mischief could I get up to? I'm sure if these girls are as privileged as you say, then the school is probably quite strict…and that's what you want isn't it? To suck all the fun out of my life by being strict?" she grumbled.

Jareth rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic, Precious. I am not trying to suck the fun out of your life. But your circumstances have changed significantly in the last few weeks. You have new responsibilities and expectations as a member of my family, and I want to help you grow into them."

She looked at him in the mirror, her green eyes flashing petulantly. "Can't this fancy pants school handle that? I don't want you helping me grow into anything. Besides, the minute I'm of age and can take care of Toby on my own, we're gone. Adios. See ya. Buh-bye!" she said, waving at him in the mirror.

He sighed then frowned. "Firstly, while the school _could_ handle turning you into a proper young lady, appropriate for my social circles and dealings in _this_ country, I have diplomatic duties in other _realms_ that they cannot prepare you for."

Sarah opened her mouth to interject at that, but one hard look from her to the seamstress, and she shut her mouth. He could see the questions in her green eyes and knew she not only understood his reference to other realms, but would likely ask numerous questions later. Nodding at her, he smiled his approval and continued. "Therefore, I want you where I can tutor you as needed so you don't embarrass yourself or me. Furthermore, as per the contract, once you reach 18 you can be free of me but Toby remains in my care until he reaches 18, you will become his guardian, but I will retain the authority over his schooling. Your father wanted to make sure he had the best preparation possible." Her frown deepened, until he reminded her," Besides, if you boarded you would not be able to see Toby every day. Doesn't seeing him daily balance out having to put up with me when I am in residence."

Sarah sighed, turning again on the pedestal to face him, much to the dismay of the seamstress. "And just how often will that be," she demanded, her hands on her hips as she glared at him.

Jareth bit back a smile at the delightful display of fire. "Not as often as you might think. My affairs in London and 'abroad' will keep me away several weeks a month, sometimes longer."

This news seemed to please her and she smiled, spinning around again and earning a frustrated, "Will you please keep still, Miss?!" from the steamstress.

"Oh…um…sorry," she muttered, as Jareth snickered behind his newspaper.

* * *

"But I like it!" Sarah pouted, stomping her foot.

Jareth blinked again at the shocking purple hair on her head with the white stripe down the side, not sure which to respond to first, the ridiculous and wholly inappropriate shade her hair now was, or her childish behavior.

"Absolutely _not_," he said, shaking his head, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her, his arms folded across his chest. "I specifically told you _no_ outrageous colors when I dropped you off. You deliberately disobeyed me on this. For one it is completely inappropriate to your station and forbidden by the student guidelines of the academy."

"Screw the academy," she griped, watching his face carefully. She knew he was unhappy, but just how unhappy he was, was hard to tell. From the ticking of the muscle in his jaw, she figured she was pushing him close to the edge. Stomping her foot, she glared at him, "And screw you too! It's my head. You may have me bound to you by that damn contract, but my body is still mine."

Judging from the way his pale eyes darkened to nearly black, she realized she had found the line between 'pissed' and 'abort mission', and apparently danced blithely across it.

"Janine, please excuse us for a few moments. My '_ward'_ and I need to have a little chat," he said to the hairdresser who had done Sarah's hair. The girl scuttled from the room in a hurry, and Jareth moved to it, locking it.

Sarah cringed as the bolt slide home. He turned slowly and walked toward her, his eyes flashing at her, shifting from black to purple and back. The intensity of his gaze made her shiver deep in the pit of her stomach, as she instinctively found herself backing toward the wall. Yes, pushing him this far had been a mistake. "Okay…I'm sorry," she said, biting her lip.

"Oh no, _Princess_," Jareth hissed, his voice every bit that of the fearsome Goblin King she had met in the Labyrinth. "You know the rules. What's said, is said."

Gulping she backed into a chair and sat down. Bending over, Jareth placed his hands on the arms of the chair and pinned her in place.

"Now, let's get a few things straight, my girl," he said, his tone still low and cold. "You are in _my_ care. You have effectively become a representative of one of the most powerful families in the Aboveground, as well as Underground. This color of hair is unseemly both here and below."

As her petulant frown deepened, he decided she needed to realize just how serious her disobedience was – for her own good.

"It's fine up here…" she started to protest, but stopped when he shook his head.

"True, your academy would merely send you home until you changed it and I can change it with a wave of my hand if I so wish. However, I was giving you the chance to pamper yourself…within reason. That said, you are now also a citizen of the Underground, Sarah and purple hair is a _big_ problem."

"It's not that big of a problem," she grumbled, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

He shook his head, then stood back, releasing his grip on the chair. "Fine then. If you know so much. Strip," he ordered.

Her green eyes widened as she clutched at the pale pink robe she was swathed in. Okay, she _may_ have occasionally dreamt of him telling her that, but this was hardly what she expected. "Do what?!"

"You heard me full well, girl. Take off your clothes. Now," he ordered. Seeing from the look of confusion and fear on her face, he was pleased to know that he had her attention finally, so much so that it was a struggle to keep his expression hard and unyielding. "Underground, only pleasure slaves for royal use have purple hair. It is a sign of their status. You've made your intentions known and don't want to let me guide you otherwise. So... Strip."

Sarah shook her head, hanging on tightly to the robe.

"Oh? So you don't want to be a pleasure slave for royal use?" he asked, his tone a quiet purr that made her stomach quiver for reasons she wasn't sure she wanted to investigate.

When she shook her head again, Jareth nodded and smiled.

"Good. I'm glad you understand me a bit better now, Precious. No matter what you may think, I do have your best interests at heart, so you really need to start listening to me," he said, moving and unlocking the door.

Sarah nodded, relaxing as he moved away.

"Your body is yours, Sarah. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes, but I do hold authority over you, so by that, it is also partially mine. At times I may tell you to do things because they are important for your safety or to make sure you represent yourself appropriately, but I will never give you an order that will hurt you - even if I am reigning you in or removing some of your autonomy. Understand?" he said, his eyes shifting back to their pale blue as he smiled quietly at her.

She nodded again, fidgeting as she suddenly felt very warm and was sure her face was red. "Yes, Jareth."

"Good girl," he said, turning from her and walking toward the door. "Although the foot stomping and deliberate disobedience will be addressed later this evening," he said, then opened the door to speak to the stylist. "Janine, I believe Sarah regrets her unfortunate choice of color, why don't you girls consider something less drastic, but still individual, like burgundy highlights as a compromise?" he suggested, before poking his head back into the room. "I'll be back in two hours to pick you up, Sarah. No more silly antics," he said, then disappeared from the room.

* * *

Ordinarily Jareth detested travelling in the Aboveground. Common Fae lore in this realm would attribute that to being surrounded by so much iron, but being of royal blood, he was more or less immune to the iron sickness that might plague other Fae who spent much time Aboveground. No, he just hated the crowded, dirty streets and the whole 'uncivilized' nature of it.

Flying however, was another story all together.

One of the first things he did when taking over as the CEO for his father's media empire was to make sure he had a personal helicopter at his disposal. If he couldn't adopt his owl form and fly, then a helicopter seemed the next best thing.

As the pilot steered away from London, Jareth relaxed into his chair, careful not to disturb the brunette who was now asleep on his shoulder – and he couldn't blame her. It had been a tiring day, even for him.

The day was a whirwind of shopping and other appointments, but despite it, it was far more enjoyable than he had originally expected. While he had a reputation Underground of being something of a peacock, Aboveground he really didn't like spending much time shopping for mundane things like clothing, however watching Sarah give him a fashion show, complete with making 'supermodel-esque' turns and strange faces, was quite amusing. More than once she managed to get him laughing at her antics, which resulted in several genuine smiles on her part. At one point she tried to argue about the sheer number of dresses he was having her try on, searching for those that were appropriate for meeting his clients and other formal affairs. He was pleased when she addressed him properly again, and amused when she objected to the amount of money he was spending. "I have been generous, Precious…because it pleases me to be so," he all he said, waving his hand for the sales girls to bring more dresses for her to try on.

Jareth now peered at her as she slumbered against him. Whether she realized it or not, she was starting to thaw a bit toward him. And what he said was true – he could be generous, just as he could be cruel. Surprisingly, despite her deliberately pushing him on the matter of rules this morning, she hadn't stayed a surly teen all day. In fact, after the hair salon she was remarkably relaxed and seemed to be enjoying herself for the first time since she had first seen him at the house. She really was lovely when she smiled, especially when it was directed at him.

Shaking his head, Jareth frowned to himself. It was no use going down that train of thought. While he might tease the girl a bit, he had no intention of acting on it unless she showed interest – for one thing, she was still too young and for another, her final words to him. "You have no power over me." He may have regained power over her in many ways, but her body… was still hers.

For the most part at least.

Oh, there were things he would do to her if he needed to if it suited him. Pinning her in her chair the night before was one such thing. It wasn't malicious, but necessary. He knew Sarah and she would not have stayed still to hear him out. No, he would not force himself on the girl, not intimately – he wouldn't need to. Someday, she _would_ come to him, willingly and of her own volition. Of that he was sure.

First things first, he had to deal with her behavior at breakfast and the matter of dying her hair. Sighing he looked at the sleeping girl. She looked so peaceful as she snuggled against him, but he was quite sure that by the time the evening was finished, she would not be so happy around him.

But damnit…he had warned her there would be consequences for disobedience and consequences there _would_ be.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

Just a short 'non-rant' this time… please bear in mind that while I have not read '50 Shades of Grey', I have a background in kink and kink lifestyles (20-some years in the lifestyle) and psychology. I am writing this story based on what I have seen, as well as my own questions of 'What if…?'.

There is at least one person who objects to Jareth's style of dominance in this story. Let me be clear on two points…firstly, I write the stories I want to read (hence the kink overtones in most of my work). Secondly, in this particular story, the kink aspect is a form of dominance/submission dynamic that is commonly referred to as a '1950's' or 'domestic discipline' form. It is not sexually based in many cases, focusing instead on general discipline (think spanking and the like). While domestic discipline is prevalent through this story, sex *will* figure into things down the track. If you don't like your stories to have kink, discipline, power imbalances and the like, then you might want to stop reading here, as the next chapter will more clearly introduce the domestic discipline that will underpin the rest of this novella. Also, for the readers who really like this story (and there are a number of them who have reviewed publicly and privately), should this story 'disappear', I will be posting it on DeviantArt (look for HachimansKitsune), as well as on AO3 (shortly).

While I appreciate that other people have different opinions and interests, I do ask readers to bear in mind that while I love that you read my stuff, I write to amuse myself, first and foremost. I will not change my story to suit your 'reading' of the characters or what you think I should do with them.

And for my regular readers, I am working on migrating my stories off FFnet since there are some people who feel they have the authority to dictate to writers how their stories should go. Be sure to watch for me on DeviantArt, Adult and AO3. I use HachimansKitsune or some variation of that on all of them.

Cheers…and thanks for reading.


	6. Ch 6: Just as I can be so cruel

**Fifty Shades of Fey**

**Ch. 6: I Can Be Cruel**

**A/N: **Yup… this is the chapter many of you have been waiting on. For those who like sex with their kink, that won't happen for awhile yet (Sarah *is* underage at this point), but it will happen later. This chapter lays the groundwork for some later aspects of their relationship. Enjoy!

* * *

The helicopter landed at the side of Tylluan House just after 7pm, causing Sarah to wake when it 'bounced' slightly on the grass in landing. When she realized she was leaning against Jareth's shoulder, she blushed, sitting upright and brushing hair out of her face. Seeing a wet patch on his shoulder she rubbed her lips where she had been drooling.

"Um…sorry about that. I must've been way tired," she muttered with a sheepish grin, while Jareth smiled at her.

"That's quite all right, Precious. Did you have a good nap?" he asked as the pilot secured the aircraft. His smile broadened when she blushed further and nodded, in a vain attempt to hide her face.

"Yeah, thanks," she said, going to grab for some of the bags that were stowed in the back of the helicopter.

Jareth shook his head, "Leave them, I'll have Louis come retrieve them and bring them up for you. Go on up and relax. We'll take dinner at eight o'clock in my study." He smiled a bit when her face fell. "Eight …sharp. I trust you won't be late this time?"

Sighing Sarah nodded, "Fine. Eight," she said, then trudged toward the house as Jareth got out of the helicopter.

He watched her until she was inside the house and the pilot had retreated to the hangar office. Once he was left alone, he let his human façade fade away with a silvery shimmer. Stretching as he felt his body shift to his true form, Jareth spread his wings and took off, hooting low at the feel of the air currents pushing upward on his wings as he beat them. Each powerful swipe of his white wings carried him higher into the cool evening air, making his heart soar with his feathered body.

On a night such as this, a proper flight was just the thing to work up a healthy appetite for one's dinner. He only hoped the cool air in the sky would help clear his head so he could focus on Sarah – and her punishment.

* * *

Sarah was torn.

For the last ten minutes she had been arguing with herself while pacing in her parlor, her eyes glued to the steady ticking second hand of the white marble clock on the mantelpiece.

_Fuck him! If he thinks I'm going to roll over and play by his rules, he is sorely mistaken….._

_But…punishment…what the Hell did he mean by that? Is he going to ground me? Fat lot of good that will do, I'm already stuck in this damn house. It isn't like I have any friends to go do things with, and no car either. What's he going to do? Send me to my room? Good! Then I don't have to be around him._

_I suppose he could say that I have to spend all of my free time with him…_

Then a small part of her mind spoke up…_Would spending your free time with him really be that bad?_

While that part of her was in the minority, Sarah felt herself blush at the thought. As much as she hated the power he now had over her, there was something about that stern look he got at times, and the way his voice would drop into a hard, purr that set her stomach fluttering and her heart racing.

Shaking her head, she growled at herself. "Snap out of it, Sarah! He talks a good game, but he isn't interested. He's a fucking King. He could have any woman he wanted and some 17 year old isn't it. He's only doing this because of the will. He's just toying with you because he _can_," she muttered, slamming her hand down on the piano keys in a discordant clash of noise.

She had made up her mind…punishment be damned. Jareth may be in charge of Toby, but she wasn't some child. She wasn't going to let him push her around.

_Besides…punishment might mean spanking_…. Suggested that tiny part of her mind with a lascivious smirk.

Sarah felt her face burn and her stomach quiver at the thought. Surely he wouldn't. Would he?

_A better question is -why don't you want him to…_ whispered the part of her that she was trying desperately to ignore.

Groaning she, glanced at the ornate clock. Two minutes to eight. Even if she left now she was going to be late, but only a little. Sarah stomped toward the door, throwing it opening then slamming it shut hard enough to shake the painting on the wall in the hallway. She was only going to be a 'little' late this time, but it was the principle of the thing. Two minutes. Ten minutes. The length of time didn't really matter. But defying him did.

Sarah slowly made her way down toward Jareth's study, becoming oddly aware of the number of clocks this house seemed to have, all of which were reminding her that she was about to flout his orders once more. The old manor was settling for the night, with no sound save for her footsteps, the slight sighs and groans of the house, and the seemingly deafening ticking of every clock she passed. Shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her jeans, she hunched her shoulders, her head falling forward. Suddenly, she didn't feel as confident about her decision to be late as she had been in the relative safety of her room.

As she reached the bottom of the main stairs, the gigantic mahogany grandfather clock in the entryway began to toll the hour. One gong. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven….then it seemed to pause for a short eternity before the last gong sounded. Eight.

She was officially late.

* * *

Jareth watched the clock as it struck eight and frowned. He had thought that he and Sarah had come to an understanding about rules and obedience, but clearly, Sarah had other ideas.

_Blasted girl…why must she defy me at every turn?_ He thought, pursing his lips as he drummed his gloved fingers on the desktop. Getting up from his desk he shook his head and growled to himself. He had planned to go easy on her since this was her first night dealing with the new 'regime' so to speak, but since she had decided to ignore his orders yet again, he had no choice but enforce them more firmly. He checked the clock again, his frustration growing as her lateness increased. As he poured himself a drink from the special bottle in the back of the cabinet, he considered having a clock appear to her reminding her of the time, but thought better of it – that would only remind her of his role as the villain in their first meeting, a role he was trying to get her to see was not who he really was – unless it was called for at least.

At two minutes past eight, there was a soft, hesitant knock at the study door, followed by a second. He flicked his fingers at the door so that it opened before she had need to even touch it a third time.

"Come in, Sarah," he said, his tone cool but firm.

She shuffled into the study, avoiding his gaze as she looked at the floor. When she was inside, she stopped, seeming unsure of where to go now that she was finally there. "Dinner will be a casual affair tonight, Sarah," he said, gesturing toward the sofa and chairs by the fireplace. "I thought we'd just eat over here." She nodded and slunk into one of the chairs, sliding down as if she were trying to hide in the depths of the padded leather. Jareth had to chuckle to himself as he carried his drink over and settled down in the chair opposite her. She was acting the part of 'surly teen' perfectly – and he should know, since he felt he had perfected that particular role during his own teen years.

Although she may think the rules he was imposing upon her were strict and unreasonable, he was no stranger to such rules himself, having been raised both Underground and Above. Smiling he sipped his drink and watched her, as she studiously avoided looking at him. While the rules and restrictions placed on young men and women Underground were, quite naturally, different, they were no less strict.

Tilting his head he watched as she picked at her fingernails, eventually bringing one to her mouth and nibbling it, while still avoiding looking at him. He could tell by the way she sat and tried to 'hide' from him in the deep chair that she knew she was in trouble for being late. She knew it, and she was waiting for him to say something about it, of that he was sure. Oh yes. Even though she studiously avoided giving the appearance of caring about his very presence, she cared…very much in fact. And the fact that he had said nothing about her being late, was eating at her, making her more nervous and conscious of his every movement.

Which was precisely why he said nothing.

At five minutes past, Mrs. Brown flitted into the room carrying a laden tray. "Good evening Sir," she chirped cheerfully, sitting the tray down on the coffee table. "Hello, Sarah," she added with a warm smile. "Did you have fun shopping in London and getting all the things you needed for school?"

Hiding her hands in the long sleeves of her baggy sweatshirt, Sarah glanced up at the housekeeper, the girl's face expressionless. Jareth watched her as she glanced at him briefly, her eyes showing the clear struggle inside her over what to say. He could see how she wanted to say no, but couldn't because they both knew that was a lie. "Yes," she muttered dully, then looked down again, studying the cuff of the faded grey sweatshirt.

Jareth smiled at the housekeeper's obvious concern. "Don't mind, Sarah. I have ensured that she is fully equipped for school to begin and now has more dresses and clothes for every conceivable occasion than any girl her age could possibly need," he said smoothly, taking a plate from Mrs. Brown with his gloved fingers. "She is just a bit sullen because she was late…again…and knows that will only compound the punishment owed for being late for breakfast…_and_ for being silly with the purple hair."

Mrs. Brown's eyes went wide, "Purple hair, Sir?"

Laughing Jareth nodded, "Oh yes. Sarah had a little fit of obstinence while at the salon this afternoon and had the stylist dye her hair purple while I was in a meeting," he chuckled, his eyes flashing fondly at the girl while she still avoided his gaze. "And while it was a rather striking shade of purple, it was wholely inappropriate and went against the directions she was given."

With her lips pursed, Mrs. Brown nodded sagely, handing Sarah a plate with a thick slice of steak pie on it. "Yes, I can't see the Head Mistress at the academy being too accepting of such a thing," she commented, then served them both some potatoes and gravy, before setting them up with steaming cups of tea.

Shaking his head, Jareth laughed, "Indeed. So Sarah and I will have a settling of 'accounts' a bit later, hence her mood. And it is understandable, this style of discipline is new to her."

Mrs. Brown nodded and patted Sarah's shoulder as she picked up the now empty tray. "Best just get things over with so the slate is clean again, my dear. The sooner you get settled and accept that rules are rules, the happier you'll be. You'll see," she said, then nodded at her employer. "When would you like me to bring dessert in, Mr. Rex, Sir?" she asked.

His blue eyes fixed on Sarah who caught them briefly before blushing and becoming very interested in the contents of her plate.

"I'll call when the accounts are settled for the day, Tess," he replied, dismissing the housekeeper who cast one more concerned look at Sarah, before disappearing from the room.

When she was gone, Jareth began to eat with a sigh. "Really, Sarah…there is no sense in being rude to Mrs. Brown just because you know you are in trouble for disobeying me. She has done nothing to you. You have no one to blame but yourself."

Putting down her fork, Sarah set her plate on the coffee table and glared sullenly at him. "Can't we get the punishment out of the way rather than sitting here trying to pretend we like each other?" she asked, folding her arms over her.

Jareth set his own fork down and looked at her, he had not been expecting this question, particularly since despite what she may think he actually was fond of her.

"Firstly, Sarah, I am not 'pretending' to like you. While it may be difficult for you to believe, I actually do like you and care about you, otherwise I would not have brought you and Toby to my house, but merely pawned you off on a boarding school somewhere," he said. Her green eyes clouded a bit at that, as she nibbled her lip, clearly having never considered that to be any part of his motives. "As to our settling of accounts, I would prefer you to eat before we deal with the more objectionable things, Sarah, since it is my experience, particularly the first few times of being punished, that one does not generally feel much like eating afterward."

Frowning, Sarah made no move to pick up her plate, "Well to be honest, Jareth, I don't feel much like eating anyway, knowing what is coming."

He nodded quietly, acknowledging that what she said was likely true. Knowing that punishment was owed and inevitable did have a way of killing one's appetite.

"Fine, I'll make a deal with you then, Sarah," he said, smiling inwardly at the way her eyes lit up hopefully at his words. "We can deal with the punishment now, if you so wish, and for tonight only, I will let you leave when we are done, but I will have Mrs. Brown bring you a tray later and you will eat what is on it, or else you will start off tomorrow with marks against you. Deal?"

Pursing her lips, Sarah considered his counter-offer. She wasn't sure what she had hoped for in suggesting that they get on with the punishment, but the fact that he agreed and was going to let her retreat afterward was a small victory in her book.

"Deal," she said, nodding.

Jareth gave her a small smile, "However, if you wish to dine with me afterward, I will be happy of your company."

Sarah frowned. "Don't push your luck, Jareth. I'd rather dine with a Firey at a table overlooking the bog," she quipped without thinking, only to immediately clap a hand over her mouth, her green eyes wide.

He laughed at this, pleased to see her fire returning. "That can be arranged, Precious," he chuckled, "Although a think you will find that my manners are far better as I promise not to try to remove your head during dinner." She blushed further as he snapped his fingers and the study door fell shut with a crisp snapping sound as the lock slid home. "It is best we are not disturbed when it comes to punishment," he informed her, his pale eyes flickering darkly as he looked at her.

For a brief moment Sarah had the strangest feeling of seeing double, with the sleekly suited Mr. Rex persona, superimposed upon the intimidating, armor clad visage of the Goblin King, his cape flapping and snapping in an unfelt wind. Sarah felt her stomach tighten and roll at the potential meanings in his words, her cheeks heating up in response. With another snap of his fingers the dinner things disappeared from the coffee table and in their place appeared a small book bound in blue leather, with a quill pen made of a single snowy white feather, laying on top of it. She blushed when she realized her name was embossed in silver on the cover.

Jareth picked up the book and held it on his knee with one elegant, gloved hand as he looked at her, his lips curling in a quiet smile that was by no means malicious, if anything, it seemed almost apologetic, her heart giving a twinge of guilt that she had ignored his rules.

"It is customary in Fey royal families to account for punishments and rewards when training young royals, as they will be judged quite harshly for their behavior in our society. Upon the child's tenth birthday, they are gifted with a book for recording such accounts. As my ward and the Champion of the Labyrinth, you are of the royal line for the Goblin Kingdom, therefore, your training will be recorded, just as mine was and my brothers and sisters before me. While you are considerably older than ten, by Underground standards, you are still quite young. Therefore, we will start your book and your training tonight, Sarah," he said quietly, his gloved fingers almost stroking the blue leather of the book.

Sarah swallowed hard, unable to take her eyes off the gloved hand and the blue book. Her stomach fluttered as he smiled at her. He made no other move, but looked at her. She had expected him to give her that cocky, supercilious smirk that she remembered so well from the Labyrinth, but oddly he didn't. Instead he looked at her seriously, but not unkindly.

"For today's accounting, there are three major 'lapses' that will be recorded," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "There were other minor things, like calling me by the wrong name at times, but those will be overlooked for the first several weeks as we focus on the 'big' rules."

Unbidden, Sarah felt herself nod, her eyes stinging a little as she suddenly felt bad for having to be punished at all. A part of her mind screamed in protest at that…_ Why should you feel bad?! He is the one imposing all the rules. He doesn't own you! You shouldn't have to kowtow to his whim just because he is somehow your guardian! _She wondered at her own feeling of guilt, and where her feelings of righteous indignation had gone, but as Jareth spoke, she found that she no longer really cared about them.

"Do you know what the three items we will be recording today are?" he asked, his blue eyes fixed on her in such a way that she felt her stomach flutter again and her cheeks flush hotly.

"I was late…twice," she mumbled, unable to look him in the eye anymore. Sarah fidgeted with her hands, burrowing them more deeply in the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

Were it not for his advanced hearing due to his avian form, Jareth wouldn't have been able to hear her as she whispered. He smiled, his keen senses not only hearing her, but smelling the discomfort and guilt as they emanated from her, a dull, bitter-tinged scent that smelled faintly of rotten herbs. He had expected her to be angry and belligerent, so to find she felt guilty was a surprise. Perhaps she would adjust more quickly than he had thought.

"Yes, you were late…_intentionally_," he said, stressing the last word with a quiet growl. She flinched at his tone, the scent of her guilt intensifying.

"Yes, Sir," she mumbled, only vaguely aware of what she had said, when the noisy part of her mind began to scream at her…_You're giving in?! Have you forgotten who this is?! THE FUCKING GOBLIN KING! WHY THE HELL ARE YOU GIVING IN?!_

Feeling lost in her own mind and skin, Sarah felt her eyes burn with tears as her inner-self screamed a question she could not answer. She didn't know why she was giving in, or why this whole thing was making her feel so odd. She felt such a strange mix of guilt, sadness and most disturbing, desire. It was all so confusing and felt so wrong – yet a small part of her seemed to derive a sense of comfort from the whole thing as it whispered in her ear… _If he didn't care, he'd let you make a fool of yourself. He wouldn't care what you did._

"And what else did you do?" he asked, idly caressing the silver lettering of her name on the blue leather.

Sarah shivered as she watched the movement through hooded eyes, biting her lip as she could almost feet the touch on her cheek. Shutting her eyes tight she took several deep breaths trying to get control of herself, her emotions and mind were at war and she was caught in the middle. "I dyed my hair after you told me to be sensible," she muttered.

He smiled and nodded. "Now, I've told you why the purple hair was a mistake, didn't I?" he asked and she nodded, knowing that he wanted her to tell him why. She blushed deeper, not wanting to repeat it. "Punishment is not given lightly, it is always done for a reason, Sarah," Jareth said, his tone gentle, but firm. "I need you to tell me _why_ you are being punished, so that I know that you understand why what you did was wrong."

She slouched deeper into the chair, her dark hair falling forward to provide the small illusion of hiding from him as she squirmed uncomfortably. "You told me not to dye my hair and I did. I disobeyed you. But I also dyed my hair purple," she murmured, picking restlessly at her fingernails.

"And why was that a poor choice, other than the obvious fact that I told you not to dye your hair?" he asked, watching her reactions intently.

"Because purple hair is a sign of a royal pleasure slave," she said softly, not taking her eyes off her lap. "So, I basically offered myself to you."

Jareth watched her as she hesitated in answering. He had expected the first part of her answer, but was surprised that she understood what he had not told her, that by dying her hair purple she had offered herself to him. What she didn't know, as he did not see a reason to tell her, is that by Underground law, merely dying her hair back did not negate the offer. If it weren't for the bitter smell of her guilt being overshadowed by the cloying sweetness of embarrassment, it would be so easy to tease her further about the fact that she had essentially, albeit unknowingly, claimed herself to be his pleasure slave and that by law, he could claim the offer anytime he wanted, but the look of discomfort on her face was enough to tell him she understood what she had done wrong. And really, he was not the monster she thought him to be, he would not force her to honor that particular offer. She understood what she did was wrong and was embarrassed by it, that meant that she now understood that seemingly simple things Aboveground, can have vastly different, and in some cases life-altering meanings Underground.

"Good. Now tell me why you are being punished for being late?"

Sighing she finally looked up at him again, her back straightening a bit in the chair, "Because I deliberately disobeyed you."

He nodded and smiled at her, "While that is true, there is another reason… royals must be on time," he said, knowing there was more to it, but she was not in the proper mindset to appreciate them at this point, as knowing them now would only upset her needlessly. "It is rude for us to be late, particularly to private meetings. Your meals with me are both the opportunity for private tutoring in the ways of the Underground, but also can be considered a meeting with the King, Sarah. Therefore, being rude is a sign of disrespect and were I in the mood, I would be justified in having you jailed or publicly flogged for such an offense. Understand?"

She nodded mutely, but didn't look away from him – that was progress as far as Jareth was concerned. Opening the book, Jareth laid it on the coffee table in front of her. The pages were pristine cream, neatly laid out in lines of gold, with three columns outlined in red – Infraction….Reason….Punishment.

"It is quite simple really," he said quietly, his expression turning serious. "At the end of each day, we will account for your behavior. Waving his hand over the book, the pages turned to a section labeled 'Rewards'. "Accounting for both the good and the bad, Precious. While I will record the rewards, as it is your book, you will record the infractions and punishments," he said, moving his hand over the book again and turning the pages back to the punishment section. "You will write down what you did wrong, and _why_ you did it. That is the one thing I cannot answer for you. I expect you to be honest, however as we are just getting started, I will tell you that the book is enchanted and will not let you write a lie upon its pages."

Sarah frowned at that and he could almost hear the grumble coming from her. Biting back a smile he continued, "Go on, write down the infractions and the reasons, then I will enter the punishments."

Sighing, Sarah picked up the white feather quill and looked around for some ink. "Where is the ink, Jareth?" she finally asked, puzzled when he merely smiled and pulled a grey silk glove from his hand, exposing long, slender fingers.

"Just as punishments are given for a reason, they do not merely affect the one being punished," he replied, then pulled a small silver knife from the air. Without a word he nicked his palm, a small well of crimson appearing.

With a look of horror, Sarah gasped, her eyes shifting from the small pool of blood on his palm to his face. "You can't be serious, Jareth! That's barbaric."

He shrugged and smiled sadly at her, "As I said, misbehaving hurts more than just you, as does the punishment, Precious. _That_ is the first and most important lesson Fey royalty must learn." Giving her an encouraging nod, he gestured toward the blue book with his other hand, "Go on, Sarah… it is time to settle accounts for today."

With her eyes prickling uncomfortably again, Sarah lightly dipped the tip of the quill into the drops of crimson pooling in Jareth's palm, careful not to actually touch the cut with the sharp point of the pen, then she began to write.

_Late to breakfast (15 minutes) | Because I didn't want to be pushed around by Jareth_

_Late to dinner (2 minutes) | Because I was being stubborn and deliberately pushing_

_Dyed my hair purple | Because it is my body and Jareth can't tell me what to do_

Smiling, Jareth read over her reasons and nodded. "Very good," he said, taking the quill from her and turning the book toward himself. "As this is the first day of accounting, I will not be as hard on you as I might otherwise be, Sarah," he said, then glanced at her, his eyes flashing darkly for a moment. "However, do not make the mistake of thinking that I will always be so _generous_ with you, Precious," he added, his tone dropping and becoming hard, the sound making her stomach clench and flutter at the same time. Dipping the quill into his palm, Jareth began to write with his left hand, careful not to smear her words as he added the punishment in the last column next to each entry.

_~ 3 strokes (1 for every 5 minutes)_

_~ 3 days of eating breakfast AND dinner with the King_

_~ duration: 1 week, from 7-9pm to be spent in the King's study looking in the mirror_

He put the quill down and twisted his wrist, conjuring a pale pink crystal which he dropped onto his palm. When it popped, Sarah saw that the cut had been healed. He smiled at her, "Your punishments are listed, one will be delivered tonight, the other two will begin tomorrow," he said, nodding toward the book.

Jareth chuckled to himself as she bit her lip nervously, then looked at the book, her eyes going wide as she read.

"Strokes?" she managed to squeak. "You…I…what?" she stuttered, her cheeks turning scarlet once more.

"Strokes, Sarah. As this is a first offense, the number is quite low. By next month, you will receive one stroke for each minute you are late," he replied, leaning back in his chair as he pulled on his glove once more.

"But what…." She muttered, unable to bring herself to voice the whole question.

"Come, come, Sarah. Don't tell me your parents never spanked you," Jareth laughed softly, enjoying the way her blush deepened.

For her part, Sarah was both horrified and embarrassingly intrigued by the thought of being spanked, her stomach clenching as her inner-self alternately screamed indignantly and swooned, while making goo-goo eyes at Jareth. No. This was _not_ good.

"Of course they did, but I was a little girl then. And…well…that was them. My parents. Not…you!" she protested, wishing she could stop the heat from rushing to her cheeks again. "This is twisted, Jareth. I'm a grown woman. You can't spank me."

He just chuckled, his pale eyes flashing darkly at her in a way that made part of her angry and the other part want to squeal with delight. "On the contrary, Precious. I can…and I will. It is that simple. By Underground law, the lord of the house in in charge of disciplining all family and staff under his care. And that includes _you._"

Sarah frowned, shaking her head. The array of scents coming off the girl would be enough to incapacitate any other Fey, but Jareth was just amused. Anger. Embarrassment. Fear. And most surprising of all, arousal. As she shook her head, shrinking into her chair, it was the fear and embarrassment that became the strongest, cloyingly sweet and sharp, the scent surrounded him as it poured off her. The stronger it grew, the more he realized he needed to deal with her fear, and quickly or he would run the very real risk of losing her and her trust, permanently.

"Sarah…I need you to listen to me," he began, his tone quiet but firm. Slowly she raised her face, just enough to give him the barest of glances. He smiled gently at her. "You do not have anything to fear from me. Not now…not ever. No matter what you may do, I will _never_ strike you in anger. You have my oath on that, Precious."

As he gave her his oath, he felt her relax a little, the sharp scent of fear easing. "Really?" she asked, her green eyes shining warily as she looked at him.

"Really, Sarah. Remember, the accounting is more about training you to behave the way you should in Underground society, it is not about being mean. Some punishments will be simple, like 'grounding' you or giving you 'detention' in my office, others will involve spanking or more 'objectionable' things. All that aside, I will never truly harm you, Precious. I promise," he said quietly.

"But…I'm not a child," she muttered, pouting a bit in a way that made Jareth want to laugh and hug her close, a realization that puzzled him. Teasing her was one thing, but the sudden wave of indulgent glee at her words and actions was something unexpected.

Shrugging it off, he smiled at her, "Sarah, you are of the royal family now, and the highest ranking male of the house is honor bound to discipline _all_ members of the family that fall under his care, children, servants and even his wife."

At his words Sarah's eyes widened, "You're kidding," she gasped. "And she'd have to put up with that?"

Jareth just laughed and nodded, "If she were raised Underground, she would expect it and consider any husband and King who did not exert such discipline over his own household, to be weak and not worthy of respect."

Frowning, Sarah slumped in her chair, considering his words. As much as it galled her to think it, he had a point. In the back of her head she heard Sir Didymus chirping, "If that is the way it is done, then that is the way you must do it…."

Watching her, Jareth could see that she was processing all he had told her and indeed, she had a fair bit to come to terms with, between the idea of punishment and her new place in Underground society. He settled back more comfortably in his chair as he watched the war play out over her lovely features. While he could prod her along, and get the punishment over with, he knew that for their long term happiness, she needed to come to him. She…needed to ask him for it. As he watched her, he wondered if she would come to that realization on her own, or if he would need to give her a nudge. Given how quickly she seemed to be grasping some aspects, he suspected she would arrive at the conclusion on her own.

And he wasn't disappointed.

In less than five minutes she sat up straight in the chair, a look of calm resignation on her face. "Okay. Fine. Three strokes, but I have some questions first."

Smiling he nodded, "Anytime a punishment is given, you may ask for clarification and or my reasoning for giving it, Sarah. I always work to ensure the punishment matches the infraction."

Sarah worried her lip with her teeth before continuing, "First, when you said strokes, that could mean any number of things, right?" she asked.

He inclined his head thoughtfully as he replied, "Yes. Physical punishments may be assigned for various reasons. Therefore the type of stroke or implement used will vary as well. It might be the hand one time, a paddle, cane or even a crop at other times."

At the mention of a crop Sarah caught a flash of the way he brandished the brown leather crop when he cornered her in the tunnels under the Wise Man's garden.

_Stop…stop it! You are sooooo not helping…._ She chastised her wandering mind as it made a few choice (and rather lewd) suggestions of other uses for Jareth's crop.

"Um…okay…and for this time what does it mean?" she asked, feeling her cheeks flush again.

Jareth squelched the urge to smile at her discomfort, in all honesty, he was actually unsure how best to proceed. "While I will usually choose the manner of physical punishment to be used, there will be times when I will give you the choice," he replied, steepling his gloved fingers in front of his lips as he answered. "In this instance, I will ask you to choose."

She looked surprised at that revelation, then wary. "Why?"

Smiling he shrugged and decided to answer honestly, "Because I want you to trust me, Sarah and not question my motives."

Her green eyes narrowed as she regarded him, clearly trying to determine whether this was a trick or not. Finally she nodded, "Okay, what are my options?"

"Were you a Fey child and I were your parent, a hand spanking would be traditional as this is a first offense and you are new to this type of domestic discipline. However, that would involve me physically touching you, in a manner that may be considered somewhat…'intimate', despite the fact that the intent is not in any way of an 'intimate' nature," he was amused to note the way her cheeks flushed and she avoided his eyes at the mention of him using his hand to spank her, then he continued. "Alternately I could use an implement of some kind, such as a ruler, paddle, or even a slipper as my governess used to use on me, but those tend to be more harsh and painful, something I am not particularly interested in exposing you to at this point," he said, watching her reaction closely. To her credit, she didn't even flinch, but looked thoughtful, as if carefully considering the options presented to her.

After several long moments she sighed with an exasperated huff. "You know, Jareth…you once told me my eyes could be cruel, just as you could be cruel and damnit…this is just cruel making me choose, but I can see why you would rather me choose so that I can't say you were taking liberties. So…thank you," she said, giving him a small, grateful smile.

To say Jareth was surprised would be an understatement – something akin to saying the Labyrinth was just a simple maze. Jareth blinked in surprise, completely stunned by what she had said. Not only did she remember a comment he was sure she would have forgotten all those years ago, she understood why he wanted her to choose.

"All things considered, while your hand seems the least painful option I…um…." she said, then hesitated, blushing again. "I just don't think that is appropriate…right now," she said, muttering the last bit sheepishly. Jareth managed to hide his amusement at her little addendum, nodding seriously as she continued. "I think the slipper might be the safest option at this point, assuming it is a normal type slipper and not made of y'know…carbon or anything like that."

Jareth chuckled and waved his hand, a plain slipper appearing next to the blue book on the coffee table. "You may, of course, inspect it if you wish, Sarah. I assure you it is just a bedroom slipper. Mine to be exact," he said.

She peered at it warily, but it did indeed appear to be nothing more than a slipper. The top was made of what appeared to be a fine silk brocade in black, shot through with fine golden threads. It wasn't as showy or ostentatious as his wardrobe had been when she visited the Labyrinth, but then his wardrobe Aboveground had been much more understated, in fact it was positively conservative. She had to wonder if it was the slipper he wore at Tyuallan House, or in the Goblin Castle. Leaning over, Sarah flipped the slipper over, but didn't pick it up, her finger lightly running along the bottom, frowning as she tried to figure out what it was made of.

"Leather, Sarah. Just a simple leather sole," he said quietly, as if reading her mind.

Sarah glanced at him, then quickly looked away, blushing, "Um…yeah… I guess it would be," she muttered, running her hand through her hair. "Canwejustgetthisoverwithnow?"

Smiling, Jareth nodded and stood up, moving around toward the front of his desk. He pulled the comfortable leather chair back from the desk and into the middle of the room, then motioned Sarah over. "Come here, Sarah," he said softly, his expression quiet, but not unkind. "Physical punishment will generally happen the same way each time. You will either bend over the back of a straight chair or over the arm of a sofa," he explained, patting the padded back of the easy chair.

She nibbled a fingernail as she walked toward him, a part of her mind screaming in outrage as she did so. _Why?! Why are you letting him get away with this?! Run! Fight! DO SOMETHING! ANYTHING! _

True, she couldn't believe she was willingly going along with this. It was wrong, on so many levels. Completely, utterly, wrong. Yet, here she was, bending over the padded chair back without being prompted to do so. If she didn't know better she would swear he had bespelled her, but she knew deep down that she was doing it. No, Sarah had consented to his authority when she signed the contract, and here she was consenting to be punished by him. Somehow, the idea that he too had been punished for misbehaving made it easier to accept. And really, if she fought him on this, he did have the power to restrain her and do it anyway, he had proved as much the night before when he pinned her in her chair. For some reason, consenting to the punishment seemed less objectionable than being forced into it, although if she were honest with herself there was a small part of her that got a little thrill from the thought of being restrained and spanked by him – but she was actively trying to ignore _that_ part of her mind.

Above all, as she stood bent over the back of the chair, Sarah felt silly.

She was a grown woman of 17 and about to be spanked by a fairy tale king with his bedroom slipper. Something about this was either horribly kinky or absolutely ridiculous, she just couldn't decide which. Then Jareth touched her back and she nearly climbed out of her skin, the red flush suffusing her cheeks again. The touch was light and barely noticeable, but Sarah shivered a bit just the same. His words were still quiet and firm when he spoke, "You are expected to count punishment strokes, Sarah… and it is customary to both ask for the punishment and to thank the person delivering the punishment at the end. I won't require it tonight, however in future, you will do well to remember that, or more strokes may be added. Royalty are expected to remember ways of address in _all_ situations, including this."

She nodded, her words soft as she practically whispered, "Yes, Jareth. I understand."

"Ready?" he asked, his hand still resting gently on her back, the fingers curling slightly, almost in a caress. Unable to make her mouth obey, Sarah simply nodded, tensing up as she waited for the first swat. "Sarah…," Jareth said, with a warm chuckle, "A word of advice from one who has been on the receiving end… don't tense up. It is always worse when you tense up."

Sarah frowned, thinking that his suggestion made no sense. In thinking about his advice, she had relaxed, just a fraction of a second before he struck her with the slipper. Gasping in shock, she reared up to stand, but the gentle hand on her back pressed her firmly back into place. "Do _not_ move, Sarah," he said, his tone dropping and becoming stern. She felt her stomach flutter at the sound of it, but stayed still as the pressure of his hand eased off again. While the slipper surprised her, it didn't actually hurt, leaving a slight warmth after the initial quick sting.

"Um…one…" she managed to mumble, feeling ridiculous and blushing at the same time. Not thinking she tensed up again just as Jareth landed the next stroke on her denim covered bum.

"Oh! Two…" she yelped, at the sudden sharper sting, trying once more to rise without thinking about it, but his hand on her back held her down.

"Sarah!" he scolded, his voice almost a growl. "I will _not_ tell you again, stay still until I am done or we'll start over."

Sarah felt her lower lip tremble and her eyes itched with tears again, more from the stern tone of voice than the stinging burn of the slipper. "Yes, Jareth," she mumbled, gripping the seat of the chair and trying not to tense up again.

Forcing herself to relax, she found the last swat wasn't as bad as the second. Apparently, Jareth had been telling the truth.

"Three," she muttered, standing up as soon as Jareth moved his hand from her back. She couldn't look at him, she was far too conflicted. Part of her wanted to flee as far away from this house and Jareth as she could. Another part wanted to curl up in his lap and apologize profusely. That was right next to the part that just wanted him to cuddle her and tell her she was forgiven for being silly. Then there was part of her who wanted to run away and think of all the wicked, naughty little daydreams she had during boring classes, daydreams she was sure would now be dominated by a blonde Fae with a penchant for sparkling crystals. She didn't know whether she wanted to cry from relief that it was over, sadness that she'd disappointed him, or sadness because it was over. In short, Sarah was confused. And it was all Jareth's fault, of that she was sure.

Jareth didn't say anything to her, but moved to the coffee table and picked up the blue book, the quill disappearing into thin air. His grey gloved hand held the book out to her, "The book is yours, so you are expected to bring it with you each night," he said, watching her face carefully. She refused to look at him as she reached out and took the book, holding it gingerly as if it might burn her. "I expect you in the sunroom for breakfast at 7 tomorrow morning. Please be on time, as I don't want to have to repeat this lesson again anytime soon," he said, smiling when her cheeks turned pink. "As promised, you may now flee, Sarah," he added, waving a hand at the door, which popped open with a 'snapping' sound as it unlocked.

Sarah didn't need to be told twice.

If she had fled from the room any faster, she would have needed wings.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, there you have it, the first part of Sarah's punishment. And before some of you lynch me because Sarah seems to be giving in, don't get your knickers in a twist. Moods and emotions change. Dear Sarah has some demons to wrestle in the coming months. I've got lots of little 'plot arcs' planned for this story.


	7. Ch 7: Emotions Run High

**Fifty Shades of Fey**

_**Ch 7: Emotions Run High**_

By the time Sarah reached her room, her chest was tight and burning, just like her eyes. Sniffing, she went to wipe her eyes as the tears threatened to fall, only to be confronted with the blue book gripped tightly in her hand, her name in silver on the front seeming to mock her. With a frustrated scream, she threw it into the fire burning in the hearth and slammed her parlor door shut, locking it. Leaning against the cool wood of the door she finally burst into tears, the crackling sound of the fire eating the pages of the book echoing in her ears.

Sure, the spanking had hurt, but not _that_ badly – certainly not bad enough to cry over. So why was she bawling like a baby?

Sarah thumped her forehead on the door, as if by doing so she might be able to sort her jumbled emotions into some sense of order – or at least enough order that she could understand why she was crying. Everything was all mixed up and it made her heart and mind hurt trying to sort it all out.

Yes, she was angry. But being angry made sense. Anger was a reasonable response to what had just happened and Jareth was the most obvious recipient for her anger, after all he _had_ just spanked her. Not only that, but he was punishing her and by all accounts would continue to punish her should she break his rules. Beating her hands on the door, Sarah pushed away from it and into her bedroom as she sniffed, wiping her face with the sleeve of her shirt.

It wasn't fair.

None of it was fair.

Sighing, Sarah threw open the door of her dressing room and started to change into her pajamas. If she was honest with herself, she knew why she was so angry, and it wasn't just because Jareth had the gall to punish her. No, she had agreed to being punished as part of the conditions of the contract, even if she didn't understand that is what the 'authority' clause meant at the time. The very fact that Jareth had that much power over her infuriated her - infuriated and frightened her. It frightened her because on some level, she enjoyed it, both his control over her and his punishment.

"Gah! That is just wrong on so many levels. It's fucked up," she muttered angrily to herself. Flopping down on the vanity bench she picked up a hair brush and began to viciously brush her hair, almost welcoming the pain of the brush ripping through knots because it distracted her from the delicious way her stomach clenched when he spanked her and the way heat pooled deep inside her each time he purred her name and gave her that stern look. "Argh!" she snapped, tossing the brush onto the vanity hard enough to send it skittering off the table and onto the floor. "I don't like him. I'll never like him! He's just a pompous, arrogant, son of a bitch who is getting off on torturing me with this whole 'I have power over you' thing," she grumbled, but she knew she was lying. A part of her did like Jareth, even when she was caught in his Labyrinth.

As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, she had regretted the way things had been left between them at the end of her Labyrinth adventure. Late at night, when she was finally alone in the quiet darkness of her room, safe under the covers, she would let her mind wander, imagining what it would have been like if her dream had actually come true while she was there – if Jareth had actually kissed her. Three times during her adventure, she had been sure he would do it. Three times she had felt her pulse race and her breathing grow shallow as she prepared to feel his silken lips on hers. And three times she had been left waiting and disappointed, feeling silly that she could even think he'd be interested in a young girl like her.

The first time was when he was before she had even entered the Labyrinth proper. He had pressed so tightly against her back as he murmured in her ear, trying to deter her…. _'It's further than you think. And time is short.' _The heat of his breath against her ear was such a surprise that she froze, mesmerized and titillated by the feeling. Only after that night would she wish she had pressed back into him.

Deep in the tunnels he had cornered her again, flaunting his tight trousers and the sinfully sensual leather jacket as he baited her with his words and double-entendres. Sarah sighed remembering how he had leaned against the wall, his arm effectively pinning her between himself and the cold stone, almost forcing her to lean toward the heat of him. Her heart nearly stopped when he had purred at her, asking how she was enjoying his Labyrinth, the sound of his voice sending a shiver through her whole body that was so strong she was sure he must have felt it through the very stones of the Labyrinth. It had been on the tip of her tongue to quip, "I'd like it better with your tongue down my throat," but 14-year-old girls didn't say such things to Fey kings, no matter how handsome and enchanting they might be. It was just not done. Sarah wasn't sure where that was written, but she was sure that was a rule. It had to be.

And then there was the peach dream.

That damn enchanted peach. Oh, she was still angry that Jareth put Hoggle up to giving her the peach, and that he'd tricked her. But no matter how angry she might be, there were parts of that dream that she cherished, particularly now that she was old enough to see the decadent debauchery that was just barely hidden in that ballroom. She was so young that while she 'saw' things happening in the press of dancers and guests, she didn't recognize what was really going on until a year later. She and her best friend Antonia had been staying up watching cable when they ran across a porn channel and watched it until the wee hours of the morning. From that little 'education', Sarah was able to put 'two-and-two' together, finally making sense of some of the things that she had 'seen' in the ballroom – like the man's legs and bum hanging out from under a woman's volumous skirts, while his head and torso were hidden from view, as the woman moaned with abandon, flashing Sarah a knowing look. And the way that two men sandwiched a woman between them as they danced, pressing tightly against her while she 'squealed' with delight.

Oh yes. She saw what was _really_ going on in that ballroom.

Too little, too late though.

Then there was Jareth. As he sang to her, she felt him pressing tighter and tighter against her, until she could feel his body against hers, despite the layers of material she was swathed in. Virgin thought she might be, she remembered the hard heat of him and the way she could actually feel him throb against her, making her blush as he leaned in, his lips nearly touching hers.

And she had to go and ruin it!

Okay, sure. She was only 14 and didn't understand the nature of what was going on, that didn't mean she didn't at least want to be kissed. And yes, she had to save Toby, after all it wasn't his fault that she wished him away. But at the end of the day, she often wondered what would have happened if she had offered herself to Jareth in trade.

Of course, as things turned out, he ended up with both she and Toby anyway.

Both of them. Under his thumb.

Sarah sighed, looking at pale reflection that stared back at her from the depths of the mirror, tear-streaked cheeks set off by wide green eyes that even now threatened to let go with more tears. She gave a soft laugh as tears started to fall again, the hollow sound quickly swallowed up by the expansive racks of clothing that lined the dressing room. It was ironic really, in her daydreams of trading herself to the Goblin King, she had considered what being under his control might be like. So many times late at night, she had laid there, imaging far more 'intimate' exhibitions of his control, her breathing coming in quick gasps as she would shudder, biting her lip until it bled so as not to cry out his name while her fingers found their soft target – not wanting him to appear and see her like that.

Sadly enough, the reality of being under Jareth's control, was vastly different.

"Things are not always what they seem….well that's true enough, she muttered with a sad sniff, then buried her face in her arms, crying atop the cluttered top of the vanity.

* * *

Jareth stood by the open French doors leading out of his study, breathing deep of the cool crisp air. He needed the cool air to clear his head after Sarah fled his office – cool air or a cold shower. He didn't quite care which.

The Goblin King knew that as his ward and effectively a member of his family, that as soon as she signed the contract he would be able to feel her emotions. Within royal families of the Underground, there was always an emotional link, as a protective measure. She had no idea that the contract was magical in that way, although the wording was perfectly legitimate in the Aboveground. He had not planned to monitor her feelings when she agreed to the contract, but then he didn't realize just how freely she would project them or how strong they would be. Sarah was a creature ruled by her emotions and they were…._loud_. Distractingly so.

Between the scent of her emotions and the feelings caused by them, merely having her in his study threatened to overwhelm him. Earlier in the day he had shielded himself from her emotions, allowing only the faintest tastes of them to seep through his defenses just so that he could keep tabs on her mood. Since it was the first time he was to punish her, he elected to remove his shielding in his study – that was his first mistake. The second was under-estimating just how much of an impact he was having on her. And as it turned out, his impact was considerable. And confusing.

That was what he felt most keenly now, as he watched the moon begin her slow ascent into the sky.

Confusion.

Yes, there were other emotions underpinning it – lots of anger which he felt as bright flashes of red and the scent of burning leaves. Then there was sadness, with its bitter smell. And the scent of desire still coated both the anger and sadness, surrounded by a faint tinge of fear. But overall, the most overwhelming of them all was confusion.

And in a way, he was as confused by her whirling emotions as she was.

Sure, he expected her to be angry. But the other emotions were a puzzle to him. He had gone out of his way not to frighten her. And he wasn't sure how sadness fit into things. The desire however, was a surprise, but still a puzzle. In fact, while it was unexpected, it presented a certain level of 'potential' to him – the possibility of someday hoping that the desire might morph into something more enduring.

Shaking his head he sighed, 'Best not to think such things….Love…especially the love of a human…is a tricky thing at best,' he mused. Yes, human love was confusing enough, but considering that upon signing the contract Sarah had become a changeling, and the love response of a changeling was unpredictable at best.

Frowning, he wondered if it would have been better for both of them is she didn't desire him. And he, desire her.

Desire.

He had desired her when she first called upon him, intrigued and enchanted by the strength of the girl and her innocence, which tasted fresh and pure – as it should. Oh, he had desired her, but even the Goblin King has standards, although most would argue otherwise. No, as much as he wanted to keep the girl and groom her to be his, she was far too young to understand the consequences of the offer. Despite the fact he was bound by the rules to offer her the dream crystal when she was on the verge of winning, he was actually relieved when she turned it down.

The dream crystal always came with a catch, as most things do when dealing with a Labyrinth runner. While it would give the winner their dreams, they were only temporary. What it really did was make the winner property of the Goblin King. Usually when a runner took the crystal, he assigned them a role within the castle or kingdom, penance for their 'crime'. Occasionally, if the runner were older he might keep them as a 'toy', using them until he was bored as punishment for their misdeed, then passing them off as a concubine to another of the Fey nobility. He knew that by human standards such a thing was frowned upon, but his was a culture of punishment, and that included slavery of various types – that is why he was glad Sarah had the strength of character to turn down the crystal. As much as he hated that she denied him and defied him at every turn, it made it easier on him. While the rules would have allowed him to keep her for his own, even her age was not a problem by Fey standards, however he felt otherwise. Her innocence was too lovely, and although he may play the villain, even he did not wish to take that innocence from her – at least not at that time.

Now, however, things were different.

Given the chance he would gladly relieve her of some of the innocence that still clung to her like the sweetest of tempting perfumes. Jareth's smirked as he considered the sweet scent and feel of her desire that made him ache inside. Indeed, he would be most happy to help relieve her of her innocence, as well as the unquenched desire. For a price. _'Forever isn't very long at all…to be mine, Sarah Precious,' _he thought, his lips curling in a dark smirk

Still, while her desire and what he would like to do about it were delicious to consider, it was her fear that concerned him most. If he were to take advantage of the desire, he needed to address the fear first.

And with that, the Goblin King took off into the night, his human guise falling away as he took to wing and flew low over the labyrinth that filled the expansive back yard. Cicling the portal gem at the center of the great maze, he hooted as it gave a glowing purple flash, then slipped through it into the mysts between worlds. His wings beat silently in the night sky as he rose higher over his beloved Labyrinth. No matter what Sarah may think of him thanks to the cranky comments of Hoggle, Jareth was not the cold, cruel ruler she beloved him to be. True, he was stern, but he had to be – goblins were not given to being easily controlled and would ignore orders delivered kindly. No matter how cruelly he might treat his goblin subjects, they loved him and respected him for it. And, being the diplomat that he was, he did not treat his non-goblin subjects with the same level of cruel coldness, they didn't need it. What Sarah didn't understand, because she did not see it in her journey through his kingdom, was the fact that his subjects, both goblin and not, adored their ruler. He ruled them fairly but strictly, and was extremely generous when his rules were followed.

With another low hoot, he dropped gracefully onto the balcony of his private chambers, his avian form melting away to leave him in his preferred attire for lounging at home, loose silk trousers and an open front silken shirt. Stretching his shoulders from his journey, he walked through the richly appointed rooms, the torches and fireplace lighting as he moved. The Goblin King settled at his desk to begin catching up on matters of state in his kingdom, glad that as Fey, his trips between worlds did not task his his energy levels greatly, thanks much to the strange way that time flowed between the worlds. Pulling the first of many missives from the stack upon his desk, he began to read, only to interupted several minutes later with a soft 'thump' as a blue book landed in the middle of his desk. Picking it up, he traced the name on the cover, the scent of smoke and ash clinging to the leather as the blacked edges began repairing themselves until they were once again their usual pristine state.

"Oh Sarah love…what am I to do with you?" he chuckled, then sat the book down and began to formulate a plan.

* * *

Late in the evening, Jareth settled on his bed to read through his own punishment book. He smiled at the carefully written comments from his beloved mother, father and tutors, wondering idly how he ever managed to survive to adulthood, given some of the things he had done in his youth. He was particularly puzzled at what possessed him to attempt to ride an untrained dragon at the tender age of 10. Surely he should never have survived to see 11 with that foolishness, but somehow he had. Chuckling, he hoped that Toby would not prove to be the handful had had been, although he was quite sure that when his mother discovered he now had a son, she would be hoping the boy would be far worse than Jareth had ever had been.

How was it the Americans liked to put it? Oh yes…'Payback is a bitch'.

As he read, he started to feel an odd squeezing in his chest. Frowning, he put the book down and waited, recognizing the feeling as it grew stronger, seeming to force the air from his lungs. He knew the feeling and it wasn't originating with him - but with Sarah.

With a small shimmer of gold, he disappeared from his chambers, appearing in the next instant next to Sarah's bed while she gasped, sitting up and frantically shaking the small blue inhaler. She was surprised when Jareth showed up, but was too panicked by the lack of air to even think of fighting him when he took the inhaler from her. He continued to prime it, as he sat down behind her, again tucking her back against his chest like he had the night before. Sarah could feel the slow, steady rise and fall of his own breathing, sub-consciously trying to mimic it despite her gasping and wheezing; at the same time she cursed her luck. Her libido was screaming in joyfully at the feeling of being nestled against Jareth's chest, while her body howled at the need for air – declaring all other sensations and thoughts officially null and void.

Jareth's arm slid warmly around her, holding her against him as he tucked the mouthpiece between her gasping lips.

"Slowly, Sarah," he instructed gently, then pressed down on the canister, relieved when she sucked in the medicine.

After several long moments, she exhaled, her breathing already starting to ease a bit. Reaching out, she tried to take the inhaler from him, rasping, "I've got it now."

Shaking his head, Jareth murmured, quietly but firmly, "No, Sarah. Relax and let me help." He held the mouthpiece up for her again and depressed the canister a second time, pleased when she didn't fight him on it.

When the second dose was done, he opened his hand, offering her the blue pump.

Sarah felt her face flush as she took it from him, knowing she should pull away, but his chest was so warm, and the feel of his arm around her seemed so safe and comfortable. For his part, Jareth was reluctant to let her go as well, he was worried about her health. Once she was breathing more evenly, he released his hold so that she could move away if she so wished. His owl self hooted inwardly in triumph when she didn't rush away from his embrace, but gradually shifted sideways, so she was still touching his bent leg, but not as closely.

"How did you know, Jareth?" she asked softly, her pale features dimly lit in moonlight that peeked through the curtains of her room. "You knew last night too."

He smiled softly at her, brushing a bit of hair from her face. "You are, for all intents and purposes, a member of the royal line of the Goblin Kingdom, Sarah. I can feel when you are in physical peril and I will _always_ come for you," he said. _While ever I have breath in my body…I will always rescue you, Precious, _he added silently, smiling at the way she blushed, the heat of her cheeks visible even in the dim light.

"Thank you," she murmured, feeling her cheeks burn hotter as she registered the expanse of bare, pale chest under his open front shirt, the golden sigil of office hanging against the smooth skin. Biting her lip she forced her gaze to shift, instead watching as he tilted his head in that very owl-like way of his, a way she was quickly starting to see meant he was thinking something serious.

Fey though he may be, Jareth had enough dealings with Aboveground children to understand such things as medication and the seriousness of some diseases. It rankled him that while he could do many things, he could not heal Sarah of this affliction. He knew enough to realize that it should not be happening this often.

"Sarah, correct me if I'm wrong, but your attacks…they are usually not so frequent, yes?" he asked, his tone quiet and concerned, as he narrowed his blue eyes.

She sighed and nodded, "True. They haven't been this bad since I was a child. I don't know why they are as bad as they are. I use my regular medication."

Frowning, Jareth looked at her, then slowly nodded. "Okay, after breakfast tomorrow we are getting you examined."

Sarah wrinkled up her nose, "I hate doctors, Jareth. There isn't much they can do anyway."

She was surprised when Jareth laughed, shaking his head, making the silvery blonde strands shimmer in the moonlight.

"I said nothing about a 'doctor', Sarah," he chuckled, clearly amused by her suggestion. "While I appreciate some of the fantastic scientific innovations of your world, when it comes to the health of the royal family, I wouldn't trust them as far as Sir Didymus could throw them." Seeing her confusion he patted her hand, "Relax, Sarah. I will have my own healer drop in tomorrow following breakfast. She will meet with you and I have no doubt she should be able to help us understand why this is happening so frequently."

Stifling a yawn, Sarah nodded warily at him.

"Good. Now, get some sleep, Sarah," he said, rising and tugging her covers back.

Sarah was torn, part of her squealing at the fact that Jareth clearly meant to tuck her in, while the rest of her just felt sheepish about it – she was a grown woman for crying out loud, she didn't need to be tucked in. All the same, she slide between the sheets and down until her head was on the pillow. Just as she suspected, Jareth tucked the covers around her. For a split second she even thought he might kiss her, her heart starting to beat frantically in her chest.

Feeling her heart begin to race again, Jareth wondered if she was heading into another attack, until he smelled the telltale signature of desire and anticipation. For all her declarations that she was an adult, Sarah not only needed someone to care for her, she clearly craved it. Smiling quietly he reached out and stroked her cheek, his smile broadening when she leaned ever so slightly into his caress, so lightly he didn't think she even realized what she had done.

"Good night, Sarah," Jareth murmured, as she shut her eyes. He could feel the sense of peace and security flowing through her and it made him smile.

Before she could open her eyes again, he disappeared, reappearing in his own bed in the manor. Shaking his head, he laughed to himself as he lay back on the smooth silk of the sheets. "How you turn my world," he chuckled, pulling a crystal from the air and watching the girl drift closer to sleep. As she finally slept, he let his defenses down against both her and Toby's feeling, two shimmering threads seeming to fade into existence, flowing around his chest, each pulsing with the heartbeat of one of his wards. He watched the two shimmering cords of purple and green throb steadily until they synced with his own, then he smiled. It was quite ordinary for immediate Fey family members to sync in that way, but he had not been expecting that of Sarah and Toby, at least not so soon.

Shutting his own eyes, the Goblin King let the gentle hum of their combined hearts, lull him to sleep, while he floated on the sensation of warmth and being protected that he felt from both Toby and Sarah.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, there you go. Thanks for being patient. Those of you who expect the same level of smut in this story that I usually write, might find that won't be the case for a number of chapters yet – but this doesn't mean there won't be hints of it *lol* Gotta keep the UST going. ;)


	8. Ch 8: Of Scents and Sensibilities

**Fifty Shades of Fey**

_**CH. 8: Of Scents and Sensibilities**_

When her alarm went off at 6, Sarah was surprised to find that she felt refreshed, as if she had slept for more than just the 7 hours she had. She expected to wake up confused or tired, but she felt peaceful and well-rested. In fact, she felt fantastic. Stretching, she rolled to a sitting position and breathed deeply, something she had not been able to do in the middle of the night. As she sat there, idly detangling her hair with her fingers, she pondered Jareth's new ability to play 'white knight' when she needed help. She wasn't sure how she felt about that, about him 'knowing' when she was in trouble. If he knew that, then how much else might he know. Considering the jumbled emotions she had following the spanking the night before, she shuddered and hoped fervently that he couldn't read her emotions – or else she might lock herself in an oubliette just from the embarrassment.

Standing up, she stretched further, the hem of her nightshirt riding up her body to expose her knickers. At the feel of it slipping over her hips she started remembering that she had been sitting up with her shirt around her hips when she was struggling with the inhaler in the middle of the night. Dropping her arms against her sides with a thud, she groaned, "Fuuuuuck! Jareth saw me in my nightshirt and nothing else." Sarah fell back on her bed and covering her eyes with her arm, trying to chase the image of herself sitting between Jareth's thighs, dressed in nothing but her (altogether too short) nightshirt, from her mind. To his credit, Jareth didn't seem to have noticed, in fact, he seemed to be more concerned with her breathing and overall health, than anything else. With that bit of hope to hang onto, she rolled out of bed again and moved to the window, pushing the heavy brocade curtains open.

It was early enough that the sun was still in the process of peeking over the horizon. Sarah paused to admire the violet shimmer of the sunrise over the labyrinth in the back yard of the manor, purples and pinks glinting off the glittering skin of the crystal at the center. Like it or not, it was beautiful, and if she was honest with herself, Sarah through the real Labyrinth was breathtaking too – when it wasn't cheating and changing things around on her at random. Of course, she wasn't sure if those things were Jareth's doing of the maze itself, although the way he talked about it, it sounded as if it were almost sentient..

Opening the window she breathed deep again, enjoying the crisp, scent of the flowers and trees as it blew into her room. She left the windows open as she began her usual yoga routine. Partway through she realized she was humming and stopped in confusion, only to hear someone singing softly from outside. She couldn't hear the words, just the melody, but she must have recognized it, as she was humming along. Standing up again, she leaned further out her window to listen, finally realizing the sound was coming from below her. As she looked down she saw that the windows to Jareth's study were wide open and the sound was coming from inside – from Jareth.

Sarah grinned as she stretched further trying to hear better. It was such a familiar song, yet she didn't recall it being something she had heard at home. The sound of his voice would drift further from the window, then get louder, making her smile as she imagined him walking around his office reading papers. Eventually the sound grew louder, until it seemed he must be standing right under her, and she was finally able to hear a snatch of the words… 'Within your heart….I'll place the moon' she heard, then he moved away again before she heard, "Falling in love…as the world falls down…"

As she listened she caught flashes of a shimmering white and gold ballroom and Jareth, resplendent in blue velvet, singing to her. This was the song he sang to her in the ballroom and it was the same song he had been humming last night as he held her in her room. Sarah gasped in surprise, then clapped her hand over her mouth and ducked back into her room as the singing stopped. Blushing she raced for her bathroom, the familiar burning sensation starting low in her stomach as she remembered how close he had been to kissing her as he sang that song in the ballroom.

* * *

At 6:50 Sarah pushed open the doors to the sunroom and stopped in surprise. Jareth wasn't there. She'd beaten him to breakfast. Grinning, she smoothed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear as she went in. There was a small table with four seats, but it was only set for the two of them. Each place was set with pristine white porcelain plates, edged with a golden knotwork design in what appeared to be real gold. In the center of the table was a simple glass bowl, filled with red and white roses floating in water. The bottom of the floral arrangement was filled with lavender spheres that looked like smaller versions of the crystal that was held aloft over the labyrinth in the back yard. As she neared the table, her eyes fell on a white wrapped package sitting on one of the plates.

Sheepishly she peered around to confirm she was by herself, then leaned over to read the card, her eyes widening when she saw her name in Jareth's careful script. Biting her lip, she picked up the card. There wasn't anything indicating that she could open it, but… by that logic, there wasn't anything saying that she shouldn't open it either. '_I'll just read the card…what could that hurt…'_ she reasoned, as she flipped the creamy ivory envelope over and slid a small embossed notecard out of the unsealed paper.

_Sarah –_

_An item that belongs to you seems to have been 'misplaced' and was returned to me by happenstance. Please take better care of your things. The other item is included as a means of encouraging you not to misplace this particular item again._

_~J_

Curiosity got the better of her at this point and she couldn't help but turn the package over and carefully open it, blushing furiously as she saw her punishment book sitting there, looking unmarred in any way. It sat atop another book. Reaching out, she carefully moved her book aside, sucking on her lower lip as she looked at the purple leather book below it with lovely silver script on the front 'HRH Jareth Llewellyn Maddoc de Tylwyth Teg'.

Jareth had given her _his_ punishment book.

Whistling softly she ran her fingers over the lettering, "Damn, that's a mouthful."

"More than a mere mouthful, I assure you," came the answering chuckle from the doorway.

Jumping back from the book as if burned, Sarah looked at him, feeling her face burn at the sultry smirk on Jareth's face and the double-meaning of his words. He gracefully made his way across the room, dressed in silken lounging pants, a simple black t-shirt that hugged his chest, and a light robe open over his shirt. She blushed further as she realized he was wearing the same slippers he had spanked her with the night before. As he reached the dining table, his suggestive grin faded, replaced with a warm smile.

"Imagine being saddled with a name like that as a child. Just as well I was royal and generally just called 'Prince Jareth' or 'His Highness of Tylwyth Teg', if I'd been called by all of those names all the time, I think I would have gone mad," he said, pulling her chair out for her. "Good morning, Sarah dear, do sit down," he added with a nod.

Sinking into her chair she felt both embarrassed and overdressed, folding her hands in the lap of her denim skirt. As if sensing her discomfort he lightly rested his hand on her shoulder a moment, "You look lovely, by the way…although if breakfast is taken before 8, then casual attire is perfectly acceptable. I should have warned you."

Sarah nodded, her blush deepening, but she squelched it down, "Gee…thanks for the warning."

Chuckling, Jareth sat across from her, his pale eyes shining as he watched her blush – he didn't think he would ever tire of seeing her react that way. It was quite enchanting, really, even with the delightful bit of fire she was showing.

As Jareth arched an eyebrow at her reply, Sarah bit her lip, half-expecting him to announce that as her first punishable offense for the day. She breathed a slow sigh of relief as he said nothing else about it. Instead, he merely reached over, picked up his purple punishment book and flipped idly through it.

"I thought you might enjoy seeing the sorts of things I got punished for as a lad, as well as the 'inventive' means my parents and teachers used to punish me," he said as he looked at the book, then handed it back to Sarah with a wink. "This is just volume 3 covering what would be my teen years by human standards. I didn't think you'd want to read about me putting toads in my tutor's soup and that sort of juvenile nonsense."

She couldn't help but smile, trying to imagine a little Jareth running around a castle somewhere with pockets full of toads or worse. Oh, she could imagine him getting into trouble, that part was easy – very easy. It was more imagining what a little Jareth would have looked like. Trying to imagine a teenage Jareth however, was remarkably easy; just like it was ridiculously easy to see him getting into all kinds of compromising situations. As she took the book back, she nibbled her lip, wondering if she would find any offenses in there dealing with illicit behaviours where the opposite sex were concerned.

"Um…thanks… I think," she finally answered as he looked expectantly at her.

Mrs. Brown and the kitchen girl swooped in a moment later with trays of food and began putting them out on the table.

"Sorry we're late, Sir," Mrs. Brown chirped as she swiftly moved around making sure the kitchen girl put everything in just the right plate. "Grace has fallen ill with a late-summer cold, so I was organizing for a spare housekeeper from the town girls for the next few days."

Sarah watched as Jareth's whole demeanor changed when the others entered. It was fascinating. If she didn't know what he 'really' was, she wouldn't have seen it. But as they walked in, his human guise seemed to become sharper, his hair shortening, cheekbones softening slightly, and the supernatural 'glittery' aura around him disappeared along with the angular markings above his eyes. Watching she mused over the fact that this is the first time he'd shown her anything like the being he was in the Labyrinth. Usually he looked, well…human. When they left again, she smiled. "So, do you have to put on the human mask thing every morning?"

Tapping lightly at the top of his boiled egg, Jareth chuckled. "Ahh…you saw that did you?" he asked. As Sarah nodded he cut the top off his egg and picked up one of the small toast points on his plate. "As Fey, we call it a 'guise' and it isn't something that I actually 'put on' as you called it. Rather, it merely happens. That you saw it speaks to the fact that you are now a changeling, so you can see magic unless it is purposefully blocked from you. I see no reason to block who and what I really am from you, as you already know them. Therefore, you will see me both in my human guise and in my more natural form."

Sarah followed Jareth's lead, carefully chipping the top off her egg, then dipping a bit of the toast in the warm runny yolk. Surprisingly, it was quite tasty that way.

"In your more natural form? You mean your Fey form isn't it?" she asked as she nibbled on a bit of the toast.

He smiled and shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee. Putting the cup down again, Jareth looked at her, his pale eyes twinkling merrily. "No, the Fey form you have seen is close to my true form, but a version that humans who have the ability to see the Fey, find less…how shall I put this…intimidating."

Sarah's green eyes narrowed at this, and she suddenly looked nervous. Without alarming her further, Jareth reached out his senses, feeling for the link to her emotions as he inhaled slowly and deeply. He felt and smelled a sudden burst of fear from the girl, cursing himself inwardly for divulging too much too soon. Too many humans assumed that if he were not Fey, he must be demon, which was quite far from the truth.

"Its okay, Sarah," he said gently, purposefully dropping his tone into a register that he knew should elicit feelings of reassurance in the girl. "You know there are two types of Fey, yes?" he asked, relieved when she nodded and started to eat again.

"Yes…the Seelie and Unseelie," she said, picking up a slice of bacon and munching on it thoughtfully. "But what does that have to do with why your true Fey form would be intimidating?"

Jareth chuckled, letting the human guise fade away again. "Quite a lot actually. The Seelie are considered 'rule-bound', we abide by the eshabot when dealing with humans."

The girl frowned, her pale features pulling in as she looked at him skeptically. "Eshabot?"

He nodded, "Yes, Sarah… essentially rules, or in human terms more accurately laws that govern how we can interact and deal with humans. You see, humans evolved from lesser Fey many centuries ago. The bloodlines are so mingled and diluted now that many humans have some tiny bit of Fey blood in them, but it is so diluted that they wouldn't be aware of it."

Her eyes lit up, "Ohh…so that explains people with 'the sight' and things like that."

Smiling, Jareth nodded, "Precisely. Anyway, the eshabot dealing with humans dictates that Fey should not assume their true form in front of any human who has not knowingly consented, as our true form has a tendency to cloud their judgment, making them susceptible to suggestion. Many humans find our true form, well, alluring. Others find us fearsome. The Seelie abide by these laws, while the Unseelie, well, they have a tendency to flout the rules – much like you do," he said, giving her a sly smirk and watching her blush again. "They particularly like to take advantage of the way their true form affects the, desires of humans."

"You showed me your true form then, when I ran your Labyrinth to get Toby back," she said with a knowing grin that faded when Jareth shook his head.

"No, Precious, I did not. That would go against the eshabot. As the Goblin King and one of the royal line of the Underground, to break the eshabot would mean losing my kingdom and my place in the family. I showed you but a pale version of my true form, but not the full extent of it," he said, piercing a bit of sliced peach on his fork and chuckling as Sarah made a face when he bit into it.

"Yes…you did. I'm sure of it. You were intimidating as hell when you first showed up at my house, and in the ballroom you…well…" she said, then stammered, her cheeks flushing again. "I just…I'm sure of it."

Feeling a hot wave of embarrassment underpinned with a taste of desire flow from her, he fought the urge to smile, instead sipping his coffee thoughtfully before answering her allegation.

"I'm sorry, Sarah dear, but I assure you, I did not show you my true form when you were in the Labyrinth. If you felt intimidated or… _aroused_…in my presence, I can promise you, I had nothing to do with it," he purred, his senses tuned in to the turmoil inside her.

"Oh…" she muttered, becoming intensely interested in her breakfast and refusing to look at him.

Smiling quietly, Jareth watched her reaction with amusement. Clearly, she had assumed he had bewitched her or himself when she was in his kingdom, and in truth, he had done neither. The fact that she had clearly been both intimidated and intrigued by him, was beneficial to his overall plan for her, as that would make bringing her under control and training her far easier. But then again, this was the girl who bested his Labyrinth, and even he knew it was best not to take anything forgranted, particularly anything associated with the Labyrinth – and as the Labyrinth Champion and Honorary Guardian, whether she knew it or not, Sarah was not just associated with the Labyrinth, she was now part of it.

For better or worse.

Breakfast continued amiably enough. Jareth was pleased to see Sarah relaxing a bit around him, even to the point of asking him questions about his work in the Aboveground. As they finished up, she put her cutlery down and gave him a searching look.

"Penny for them, Precious," he said gently, looking up from his newspaper and smiling at her, relishing the faint pink that rushed to her cheeks. It was so easy to make her blush, he sincerely hoped she never outgrew that response to him.

"I…um… last night you said I had a 'place' in the Underground and your kingdom. I was wondering what you meant," she muttered, unable to look into the sparkling blue eyes.

Folding his paper, Jareth laid it aside, then nodded. "I was wondering when you would ask about that, my dear," he began. "The answer is both quite simple and inherently complex. Simply put, when you bested the Labyrinth, you became the Labyrinth Champion and Guardian of the Goblin Ha."

She blinked in surprise, looking at him, "Champion? But…I'm not…I just… I can't guard anything, Jareth. You know that."

He chuckled, shaking his head gently. "Yes, Sarah, you can and you are, whether you know it or not. While the titles are in some ways merely ceremonial as far as the royal line of the kingdom and Underground go, they do confer upon you noble status within the Goblin Kingdom, which is recognized throughout the Underground. Even prior to accepting my contract, you were officially known within the Goblin Kingdom as 'Lady Sarah Williams, Guardian of the Goblin Ha and most Revered Champion of the Labyrinth'. At the High Court of the Underground, you are now officially 'Lady Sarah Williams, Guardian of the Goblin Ha, Champion of the Labyrinth and ward of the House of Tylwyth Teg'."

"Whoa…." Sarah whispered, trying to take it all in. "But…I don't know how to be a Lady or a Champion or any of that, Jareth," she protested finally, her hand shaking as she tried to pick up her juice glass.

Tenderly he reached out and took the glass from her, then took her trembling hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"I know, Precious. That is why I will teach you. In 3 months, you and Toby will be presented to the royal family and the court at the Yule Ball. At that time, Toby will be made a Prince of the Goblin Kingdom so that he can inherit the kingdom someday," he said, smiling warmly at the way her eyes went wide and misted with tears at that.

"Y-you'd do that for Toby?" she muttered, looking at him in disbelief.

"Of course, Sarah. Had you not won the boy back the first time, I would have done so years ago," Jareth said, puzzled by the wave of relief pouring off the girl. "I always planned to name young Toby my heir."

"You weren't going to make him a goblin, then?" she asked, biting her lip.

"Of course not," Jareth laughed. "Goblins are born, not made. And I've more than enough goblins in my kingdom, Sarah!"

Looking sheepish, Sarah nodded, "Oh…." She sat quietly for a moment then frowned, "But, what about when you have children of your own. Won't that put Toby's life in danger?"

Chuckling Jareth squeezed her hand. "Relax, Precious, the royal line of the Underground is not quite as capricious and violent as your human royal families have been. The fact is, few in the Underground would want to rule the Goblin Kingdom. You've met my subjects, they are not the brightest, but they are loyal to a fault, and they fell in love with Toby the minute he arrived in the castle. Not one of them would see the lad harmed. He is the ideal choice."

She smiled back, relieved and pleased that Toby had been so loved. "So does that mean I get to be a princess at the ball?" she asked with a grin.

Jareth sighed inwardly, this was not a question he really wanted to answer, as there were still too many threads of fate that had yet to be woven. Her smile faded when Jareth shook his head, "No pet…I'm afraid not. Toby is to be named my heir. In the Underground, that makes him my son in order to keep the royal line intact. There are two ways you could become a Princess, Sarah. I could officially adopt you, making you my daughter in the eyes of the court and kingdoms, or you could become a Princess by marrying into a royal family of the Underground."

"Oh," she muttered, her face dropping a bit. "I see."

"I'm sorry, Precious," he said gently. "I would that I could…."

"No…no…I understand," she said, unable to look at him. How could she be so stupid, she thought, kicking herself mentally for even thinking such a thing. "I mean, yeah…it makes sense. You don't want me for your daughter. That would just be…weird. And yeah… the whole marriage thing…yeah…sooooo not thinking about that."

Jareth's pale eyes shifted to darker blue as he felt the icy sensation of despondency emanating from the girl. She was taking this far harder than he thought.

'_Take her to wife and make her a Princess of the High Court and Consort to the next High King'_ – his mind growled, intensely disliking the deepening sadness that seemed to be twining itself around Sarah's emotions until it was blotting out the other more pleasant feelings she had been having. _Wife. Wife? When did wife enter this conversation_?!... He thought irritably. Yes, the girl intrigued him and he couldn't deny that as much as he loved the power he had over her and her training, part of him wanted to both see her happy and protect her. Given the way she responded to him, there was the burgeoning idea that she might accept him as both husband and king, but that would not happen by the time of the Yule Ball, he could not afford to rush her in that direction or she would balk like a skittish mare.

No, these things could not be rushed. But perhaps there was something else that would placate her in the meantime.

Sarah felt the warm squeeze of Jareth's hand as she tried to pull her hand away. "Sarah…Precious, look at me," he said, his voice warm and gentle.

Shaking her head she looked away, "Look…I feel stupid enough just let me go…."

"No, Sarah," he said more firmly, his tone still gentle as his hand came up, tenderly caressing her cheek and tilting her face to look at him. "I need you to understand this. If you truly want me to take you as my daughter, then I will, but…I feel that will make things far too awkward between us at home."

Numbly she nodded, feeling the familiar stinging in her eyes and she wasn't quite sure why.

"But you need to know this too, as Guardian of the Goblin Ha, you are more powerful than a Princess of the Goblin Kingdom. In fact, the only people who hold more power in the kingdom are the King and Queen. And since I have no queen, when it comes to royal functions of my kingdom, the Guardian of the Goblin Ha acts as Queen Proxy," he explained, relieved to feel the cold tendrils of despondency shift away from her as she started to understand. "That role is yours until such time as I take a queen."

There it was again, that icy blast of despondence, pulling tightly around her emotions as she closed herself off from him.

"GeethankscanIgonow?" she muttered, dropping her gaze again. She pulled her hand from his and stood up, her chair nearly toppling over from the force.

Too late he realized he had overplayed his hand and made the situation worse.

"Yes, Sarah," he said, sitting back with a resigned sigh. "Dinner will be in here at 6:15. Toby will be joining us tonight," he added. "And Maeve my healer will come to your rooms at 11 to examine you, other than that, you are free to spend the day however you wish."

Nodding, she left the room without a word.

Bloody stupid man, he sighed to himself as she left. He had to wonder if dealing with Sarah would ever be easy. No other female he had dealt with in the last three hundred years had been as frustrating as Sarah.

* * *

"It's quite simple, Sarah. Your punishment is to look into the crystal," Jareth said, leaning against the front of his desk and pointing at the large shimmering crystal on a stand by his desk.

Sarah looked at him in disbelief, then back at the crystal. It was the size of a spinning globe, and held up by a statue of two golden goblins wearing armor

"I just have to look into the crystal. No spanking…or anything else? Just…look in a crystal?" she asked, clearly not convinced.

At that Jareth laughed, "Well, if you want a spanking, I will happily do it, but it would be purely for the fun of it." He smirked at the way her cheeks turned crimson and she shook her head frantically, the faint scent of her desire on the air and the tendril of arousal that teased through him, giving her true feelings on the matter away.

"That wasn't what I meant, and you know it," she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him. "I meant…what's the catch? This is you. There has to be a catch."

"No catch, Precious. This is a special crystal. Only the person looking into it can see the images it contains. I want you to simply look into it and see yourself with the purple hair and think about _why_ that was inappropriate, both because you were being willfully disobedient and what that hair color signifies Underground. Understand?" he asked, sitting a comfortable chair next to the pedestal that held the crystal.

Still frowning, Sarah looked from Jareth to the shimmering skin of the crystal, sure that there was something he wasn't telling her. Slowly she walked over and looked at the chair, then at Jareth. "I understand, but I still get the impression that you aren't telling me something."

He merely laughed and nodded toward the chair, "Just sit and think. The crystal will do the rest."

Sighing she sunk down on the chair and started to get comfortable before looking into the crystal and thinking about what he had told her to consider, while Jareth turned away from her and went back to his desk to work. She shut her eyes for a moment to pull up the image of herself with purple hair, before opening them again and gasping. The image in the crystal had shifted, showing herself with the purple hair, just like she had imagined. Sarah could hear Jareth chuckle softly from his desk and blushed, her blush deepening as the image in the crystal shifted again. She still had purple hair, but her clothing had changed to a filmy purple silk that was nearly sheer. The material was held by small golden clasps on her shoulders, and thin golden chains at her hips, dropping to mid-thigh, but was entirely open otherwise – and considering how sheer the material was, she felt her face heat up to realize she was completely nude underneath it. Around her neck was a wide golden collar with the royal sigil of the Goblin King on the front in silver and jewels. There were two fine chains attached to the center of the collar, leading down to her wrists, where matching golden cuffs were locked in place.

With a gasp, Sarah glanced down at her clothes, relieved to find that she was still wearing her jeans and the light cashmere sweater she had put on for dinner, yet when she looked back in the crystal she once again saw the fine golden chains and silk. The Sarah in the crystal was a pleasure slave. Jareth's, pleasure slave.

Sarah shivered, biting her lip as she looked at herself and saw the image start to move.

Jareth watched her out of the corner of his eye until she gasped and looked down at herself, then blushed deeply. Oh yes, the crystal was working precisely as it should, showing her the full implications of what that hair color signified. He was rather pleased with this little punishment, although he couldn't take full credit for it, as his mother had done something similar to him, once upon a time, to show him what his life would have been like without his younger brothers and sisters. Suffice it to say, the outcome would have been far less appealing than the life he now led.

Smiling, he turned his attention back to his work, sure in the knowledge that Sarah would be engrossed in the enchanted images for some time and almost wishing he could see what she would. While he had prepped the mirror for her punishment, after the initial image of herself clothed as a proper pleasure slave, anything else she might see was being pulled from her own imagination. Given the tantalizing scent of arousal now drifting toward him, he was quite sure that her own imagination would be offering up some images that he would find most illuminating.

Doing his best to ignore the scent of desire and embarrassment coming from Sarah, Jareth returned to signing invitations to the Yule Ball. Although he could have his major domo do such a task, he had been raised to believe that where political functions were concerned, the personal touch was best. And despite what Abovegrounders might think of royal functions like balls, they were always as much political as they were social, especially this one, as there would likely be some resistance to his naming a changeling mortal as his heir. Not to mention the fact that his mother had already informed him that a selection of potential brides would be presented to him on the night. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and leaned back, watching Sarah stare entranced into the glowing crystal. He was quite sure he knew the 'suitable' potential brides his mother would parade in front of him, and he wanted no part of any of them. To a one they were vain, spoiled, petulant, or dull. Not one had a spark of adventure or imagination about them and there was no way he could see tying himself to any of them for eternity.

Then there was the matter of Sarah.

He had told her the truth about why he could not name her a Princess of the realm. Not only that, but since the morning, he had given more thought to the idea of taking her as Queen, and the idea had merit. The goblins adored her. She had more imagination and sense of adventure than any of the suitable women his mother would pick. And she was already of royal status, making her eligible to be considered. Add to that the enticing way she responded to him, and he could really see her coming around to the idea. However, after her reactions that morning, he had learned to tread carefully where a future with Sarah was concerned. Clearly, she didn't care of the idea of him taking a Queen; that much was clear, even if she didn't understand it herself. All he had to do was bide his time.

Arching an eyebrow he watched as Sarah started to squirm on the chair, her breath hitching in her throat as the scent of arousal grew stronger. Dropping his shielded emotions a bit further, he sought out hers, only to be knocked back in his chair with the overpowering wave of lust and confusion that poured from her. He found himself panting along with her, despite being unable to see what images she was being shown. Clenching his teeth against a groan, he felt himself harden instantly, the sensation of his sensitive flesh brushing against the silk of his suit pants, almost unbearable. _Gods above! What is the girl imagining?!_ he wondered.

For her part, Sarah was oblivious, both to the fact that the images were being crafted from the desires in her own heart and mind, but also to the way her body's reaction was affecting Jareth. Every thread of her attention was consumed with doing one thing and one thing only – watching the images playing out in the crystal.

They had started out simple enough, the images shifting like a series of short movies, each only a few seconds long. First a flash of herself kneeling at Jareth's feet as he sat on the bed, her head bowed as he stroked her cheek. Then it changed, showing her laying over his lap as he spanked her, the thin silk bunched around her waist, allowing him to spank her bare flesh. But the Jareth in the mirror didn't just spank her, he caressed her bum, teasing his fingers over the ivory curves before dipping between her thighs. She felt her cheeks burn when she realized that this spanking was not for punishment, and by the way the Sarah in the crystal squirmed, she was enjoying it. The image shifted again, finding her standing close to him in what must be the castle, as he was wearing the flowing shirt and tight breeches he had been wearing when he cornered her in the tunnels under the Labyrinth. His hand trailed up the silken material covering her until he cupped her breast as she undressed him. She swore she could feel his touch as she watched, then the image changed once more, showing the crystal Sarah nude under him as he slid into her waiting body.

"Enough!" she squeaked, shutting her eyes as she pushed away from the crystal, toppling the chair over and ending up on her knees in front of Jareth.

He looked at her in surprise, feeling the surge of lust and confusion from the girl get stronger still, as the scent of her arousal seemed to blanket him. Dropping his magical protection from her emotions, he searched for the link and didn't have to look far as the feeling of desire and fear slammed into him so hard it took his breath away.

"I can't…I just…please…" she stammered, finally looking up at him, her green eyes wide and pleading. "Don't make me look anymore. I can't stand it," she whimpered.

Jareth reached forward to touch her cheek, his fingers lightly grazing the trembling girl as he recognized the feeling. She was right on the edge of release. Whatever she had been watching had driven her right to the edge without a single touch, her arousal causing his own body to respond strongly. Without a thought he nodded, "Go."

As she bolted from the room he hoped the feeling would dissipate, but if anything it got worse. Within minutes he was trembling as badly as she had been, his hands tight around the arms of his desk chair as he fought for some measure of control. The moment he dropped his shields to sample her emotions, he had lost all control, his own body responding to the frantic state of her own. Unable to move, or bring up his own shields again, he had no choice but to ride out the emotions until Sarah calmed down. That's when he felt it, the agonizingly pleasurable tightening in his stomach that always heralded release. "No!" he gasped, in shock, the release surging from him in heated jets as he shuddered against the leather of his desk chair, his mouth open and gasping at the force of the sensations washing over him. He was only dimly aware of the keening cry that drifted into the open window from Sarah's rooms above.

Panting he looked down at the dampness spreading across the front of his suit trousers, still unable to believe it. He hadn't spilled himself like that, untouched or with such force since he was a teen, still learning the ways of the flesh.

"By the Gods, it smells like a forest nymph whore house in here, Jareth!"

Jareth looked up startled, his eyes narrowing angrily at being disturbed while his libido (confused though it was at the moment) demanded that he bog whoever had the audacity to barge into his office unannounced. Seeing his healer Maeve standing in front of his desk, he relaxed again, still giving her an irritated scowl. "I'd invite you in, Maeve, but it would seem you've invited yourself," he quipped, shaking his head as she dropped a pair of lounging pants on his desk, her mischievous silver eyes flashing.

"Go ahead and change, Jareth,"she said, glancing at the stain spreading on his trousers, before dropping into a chair with a sigh. She snapped her fingers and created a small pouffle footstool, then propped her worn boots up on it. "It isn't like I haven't seen your bits and bobs, before," Maeve laughed, making herself comfortable.

"Be that as it may," the Goblin King replied with a droll smile, snapping his fingers and refreshing both his clothing and his body in the same instant. "You aren't here to examine me…or my bits, tonight, Maeve."

He watched as Maeve inhaled deeply and chuckled. "Aye, my boy, that I'm not. But mark my words, you're going to have to do something about that young lass of yours. If she gets wound any tighter you'll have serious problems on your hands."

Were it anyone else, he'd be most offended by her use of his given name, but seeing as how she had not only seen him into the world but his parents as well, and would likely live long enough to see his grandchildren safely draw their first breath, she could be forgiven her overly-familiar address. Jareth frowned, pulling a cup of tea of his own from the air, as he flicked his hand and locked the door of his study to keep out other members of the house.

"I'm quite sure her being 'wound up' as you so eloquently put it, had to do with the punishment I gave her for dying her hair against my orders," he replied with a shrug, a cool breeze drifting into his office from the open window and carrying the heady scent of Sarah's arousal out of the room.

Still chuckling, Maeve shook her head, silver tendrils of hair curling over her shoulders as they fell out of her haphazard bun, "If only it were that simple, Jareth. Your young charge is moving toward l'hrev at a frantic pace, that's what is causing the problems with her lungs. Once the change is complete, that will stop, but there is no telling when her change will finish and her lungs are the least of your problems."

Jareth set down his tea, his eyes darkening as he glared at the elderly goblin, "Maeve, She is a mortal changeling, her time of change should not come until she is bonded fully to a Fae."

"Aye, that is what I thought too, until I examined her. I may be old, but I don't make mistakes about things like this, Jareth. That girl is on the cusp of her first change as a full Fey, marking her as a breeding female in our society. If you don't get a handle on the mating scent she is already starting to put out, you're going to have every magical being on this plane showing up on your doorstep trying to claim the girl," Maeve said, pulling a tea biscuit from the air and munching on it.

Jareth gritted his teeth, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. _Of course, she would manage to be different than any other changeling, this is Sarah we are dealing with after all, _he thought in irritation.

"How long do we have before she fully enters l'hrev?" he asked, his tea forgotten on his desk as he tried to remember what had happened when his sisters had begun their first change phase. Ordinarily such matters were handled by the eldest female of the family, but as there was no elder Fey female in his household, that left him two options – deal with it himself or bring his mother in to manage Sarah's change. Of the two, he'd rather deal with it himself than let his mother have any say in training Sarah for Fey society.

Maeve plucked another cookie from the air and shrugged. "Hard to say, Jareth. Since she started as a mortal changeling, her own fertile cycles are likely to interfere. I've only seen one mortal changeling of noble status within the Underground in all my years. Her first change happened when she was far older than Sarah, and she was already bonded and married at the time. At a guess, I suspect that Sarah's cycles will become stronger, heightening her natural emotional and hormonal reactions during that time," she said, then gave the Goblin King a wicked grin. "And if you don't know much about the moon cycles of mortal girls, let me just clue you in, your majesty, in teen girls the emotional upheavals can be tremendous. With Sarah going through her first change at the same time, well… let's just say I wouldn't want to be in your shoes."

Jareth shut his eyes and groaned inwardly as he muttered, "Terrific. Just what I needed… a hyper-emotional and hormonal mortal changeling. What else could go wrong?"

"Well for starters, in that state, she is likely to be more fertile than the average human or Fey female. So I'd either suggest you commission a chastity belt for the girl, or lock her in a well-guarded tower," Maeve chuckled with a teasing grin, only to cackle as Jareth's glared at he testily.

"Blast it all, Maeve, you've met the girl. She would fight tooth and nail if I mentioned even the merest hint of locking her into a chastity belt or tower - Even if it was for her own safety!" he grumbled, starting to pace around his study, muttering angrily to himself. Finally he stopped and looked at Maeve. "Can anything be done to dampen the scent, Maeve?"

Maeve sipped her tea thoughtfully, "Well, the obvious answer is to claim the girl yourself. Once she is bonded, then the chemical signature that she puts out will only be noticed by you."

His scowl deepened as he shook his head, "Not an option…at least not by the time of her first change cycle. Any other ideas?"

Shrugging, Maeve got up from her chair, sending the pouffle back to her cottage Underground with a clap of her hands. "The problem is both her own hormones and her emotional reactions to desire. If they continue to build up like they have been, her very scent will act as the beacon. And from what I smelled and saw when I came in," she added, giving Jareth a cheeky grin, "her scent and emotions will play havoc with you via your familial link. The only way I can see to dampen that is to ensure that the girl gets release, either by her own hand, yours or that of another."

Frowning, Jareth sunk into his chair as Maeve disappeared.

Frowning, Jareth sunk into his chair as Maeve disappeared. He knew Maeve was right, and this was the only option open to him, but all the same, this was not a conversation he looked forward to having with Sarah. With a quiet sigh, he tapped his teacup and turned it into a glass of whiskey and openbed his link to Sarah. He was relieved to feel that her desire had all but disappeared, in fact, she appeared to be calm and relaxed, with no trace of the powerful scent of arousal from earlier. Perhaps it wouldn't be as bad as Maeve made it sound.

Yes. And goblins might sprout feathers and fly.


End file.
